SERMONS 
IMPORTANT  SUBJECTS, 


BY   THE   REVEREND 

SAMUEL   DAVIES,  A.M., 

PRESIPENT   OF    THE     COLLEGE    OF    NEW-JERSEY. 
WITH  AN   ESSAY  ON  THE 

LIFF    AND    TIMES    OF    THE    AUTHOR, 

BY 

ALBERT  BARNES. 


STEREOTYPE    EDITION, 

CONTAimNG   ALL   THE    AUTHOR's    SERMONS    EVER   PTTBUSHBD. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 
VOL.     I. 


NEW    YORK: 
ROBERT    CARTER  AND   BROTHERS, 

285  BROADWAY 
1854. 


*\ 


%■> 


>v.\ 


PREFACE 


FIRST    LONDON    EDITION. 


It  is  with  real  pleasure  I  now  send  into  the  world  a  collection 
of  Sermons,  by  that  eminent  and  amiable  man,  and  my  most 
esteemed  and  beloved  friend,  the  Kev.  Mr.  Samuel  Dayies.  I 
hope  I  may  be  the  honored  instrument  of  promoting  the  great 
interests  of  vital  evangelical  godliness,  by  communicating  to  the 
public  a  number  of  Discourses,  which  appear  to  me  admirably 
calculated  to  increase  the  knowledge  and  power  of  real  religion 
in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men. 

Those  who  knew  and  heard  Mr.  Davies  will  need  no  further 
proof  than  the  perusal  of  the  discourses  themselves,  that  they  are 
the  real  productions  of  the  author  to  whom  they  are  ascribed. 
The  sun  shows  himself  to  be  the  sun  by  the  very  beams  with 
which  he  irradiates  and  enlivens  mankind,  and  is  easily  distin- 
guished from  other  luminaries  by  his  surpassing  lustre.  *  *  *  * 

I  most  sincerely  wish  that  young  ministers  more  especially 
would  peruse  these  volumes  with  the  deepest  attention  and  seri- 
ousness, and  endeavor,  in  conjunction  with  earnest  prayer  for 
divine  illumination  and  assistance,  to  form  their  discourses  ac- 
cording to  the  model  of  our  author ;  which,  if  I  mistake  not,  are 
the  following  excellences,  most  worthy  of  imitation : 

A  calm  and  elaborate  inquiry  into  the  connection  of  those  pas- 
sages of  scripture  which  he  chooses  for  his  subjects,  and  a  close 
investigation,  when  it  appeared  necessary,  into  the  meaning  of 
his  text  by  researches  into  the  original  language,  and  fair  and 
learned  criticism ;  a  careful  attention  to  the  portions  of  sacred 
writ  upon  which  he  proposes  to  treat,  so  that  his  discourse  as 
naturally  arises  from  his  theme  as  the  branch  grows  from  the 
root,  or  the  stream  issues  from  the  fountain.     In  every  page,  and 


IV  PREFACE. 

almost  every  line  of  Mr,  Davies'  sermons,  his  readers  may  dis- 
cover the  subject  he  at  first  professed  to  handle;  and  he  is  ever 
illustrating,  proving,  or  enforcing  sonic  truth  or  another  evidently 
contained  in  it ;  a  reigning  regard  to  the  divine  word  by  compar- 
ing and  confirming  scripture  by  scripture,  by  taking  the  sacred 
text  in  its  easy  and  natural  sense,  and  by  apt  and  pertinent  cita- 
tions of  passages  from  holy  writ,  botli  in  the  proof  and  amplifica- 
tion ;  at  the  same  time  that  our  author  by  no  means  omits  a  re- 
gard to  the  dictates  of  natural  conscience  and  reason,  while  he 
either  makes  his  appeal  to  them,  or  introduces  passages  from 
Pagan  antiquity  on  proper  occasions,  and  to  answer  some  valua- 
ble purposes ;  an  observance  of  method  and  order,  so  as  to  pro- 
ceed, like  a  wise  builder,  in  laying  the  foundation,  and  regularly 
erecting  the  superstructure,  and  yet  diversifying  his  method  and 
order,  by  making  them  at  some  times  open  and  express,  and  at 
other  times  indirect  and  implicit ;  a  free,  manly  diction,  without 
anything  of  a  nice  and  affected  accuracy,  or  a  loud  sounding  tor- 
rent of  almost  unintelligible  words  on  the  one  side,  or  a  loose 
negligence,  or  mean  and  low-creeping  phrases,  unworthy  an  ad- 
mission into  the  pulpit,  on  the  other ;  a  rich  vein  of  evangelical 
doctrine  and  promise,  witli  a  large  infusion  at  proper  seasons  of 
practical  duty,  or  awful  denunciation  of  the  divine  wratli  against 
impenitent  and  incorrigible  sinners ;  an  impartial  regard  to  the 
cases  of  all  his  hearers,  like  a  good  steward  distributing  to  all 
their  portion  of  meat  in  due  season ;  animated  and  pathetic  ap- 
plication, in  which  our  author  collects  and  concentrates  what  he 
has  been  proving  in  his  discourses,  and  urges  it  with  all  the 
powers  of  forcible  address  and  melting  persuasion  to  the  heart. 

Such  appear  to  me  to  be  the  excellences  of  Mr.  Davies'  Ser- 
mons. May  young  ministers  more  particularly  copy  them  with 
divine  success,  and  be,  like  him,  "  burning  and  shining  lights"  in 
their  several  stations,  till,  having  guided  and  animated  their  re- 
spective charges  in  the  way  to  heaven,  they  and  their  people 
may  at  last  "shine  forth,  like  the  sun,  in  the  kingdom  of  their 
father." 

Such  are  the  sincere  prayers  of  the  Editor, 

THOMAS  GIBBONS. 
ffozton-Square,  October  21,  1770. 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME   I. 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  THE  AUTHOR,  BY  ALBERT  BARNES. 

SERMON   I. 

THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENOY    OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  RE- 
LIGION. 

Luke  xvi.  27 — 31. — Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee,  therefore,  father, 
that  thou  wouldest  send  him  to  my  father's  house  :  for  I  have 
five  brethren :  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also 
come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abraham  said  unto  him, 
they  have  Moses  and  the  prophets  :  let  them  hear  them.  And 
he  said.  Nay,  father  Abraham ;  but  if  one  went  unto  them 
from  the  dead,  they  will  repent.  And  be  said  unto  him,  If 
they  hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  be  per- 
suaded though  one  rose  from  the  dead,         -        -        -         1 

SERMON  II. 

THE  NATURE  OF  SALVATION  THROUGH  JESUS  CHRIST  EXPLAINED  AND 
RECOMMENDED. 

John  m.  16. — For  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  nofc 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life,         -        -        -        -        31 

SERMON  III. 

SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED   TO    GOD. 

2  Cor.  v.  20. — Now  then  we  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  aa 
though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us :  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  Be  ye  reconciled  to  God,  -        -        -        -        64 


VI  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  IV. 

THE    NATURE    AND    TNI  VERS  A  LIT  Y    OF    SPIRITUAL   DEATH. 

Ephes.  II.  1  and  5. — Who  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. — 
Even  Avhen  we  were  dead  in  sins,       -         -         -        -         74 

SERMON  V. 

THE    NATURE    AND    PROCESS    OF    SPIRITUAL   LIFE. 

Ephes.  II.  4,  5. — But  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great 
love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins, 
hath  quickened  us  together  in  Christ,  -        -        .        95 

SERMON  YI. 

POOR   AND    CONTRITE  SPIRITS  THE  OBJECTS  OF    THE    DIVINE  FAVOR. 

Isaiah  lxvi.  2. — To  this  man  will  I  look;  even  to  him  that  is 
poor,  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word,  113 

SERMON  VII. 

THE    NATURE   AND  DANGER  OF   MAKING    LIGHT  OP  CHRIST  AND  SAL- 
VATION. 

Matt.  xii.  5. — But  they  made  light  of  it,       -        -        -      129 
SERMON  VIII. 

the   compassion   OF   CHRIST  TO   WEAK   BELIEVERS. 

Matt.  xii.  20. — A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  smoking 
flax  shall  he  not  quench,  143 

SERMON  IX. 

THE  CONNKOTION  BETWEEN  PRESENT  HOLINESS  ANT)  FUTURE  FELICITY. 

IIeb.  xii.  14. — Follow  Holiness,  without  which  no  man  shall 
see  the  Lord,  - 159 

SERMON  X. 

THE   MEDIATORIAL   KINGDOM    AND    GLORIES    OF   JESUS    CHRIST. 

John  xvni.  87. — Pilate  therefore  said  unto  him,  Art  thou  a  king 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

then?  Jesus  answered,  Thou  say  est  that  I  am  a  king.  To 
this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  the  world 
that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth,  -        -       172 


SERMON  XI. 

THINGS   UNSEEN   TO   BE    PREFERRED    TO   THINGS   SEEN. 

2  Cor.  iv.  18. — While  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen, 
but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen ;  for  the  things  which 
are  seen  are  temporal :  but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are 
eternal, 199 

SERMON  XII. 

THE   SAORED   IMPORT   OF  THE   CHRISTIAN   NAME. 

Acts  xi.  26. — The  disciples  were  called  Christians  first  at  An- 
tioch, 212 

SERMON  XIII. 

THE   DIYINE   MERCY   TO   MOURNING   PENITENTS. 

Jer.  XXX.  18,  19,  20. — I  have  surely  heard  Ephraim  bemoaning 
himself  thus :  Thou  hast  chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised  as 
a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke :  turn  thou  me,  and  I 
shall  be  turned ;  for  thou  art  the  Lord  my  God.  Surely  after 
that  I  was  turned,  I  repented ;  and  after  that  I  was  instructed, 
I  smote  upon  my  thigh  :  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confound- 
ed, because  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth.  Is  Ephraim 
my  dear  son?  is  he  a  pleasant  child?  for  since  I  spake  against 
him,  I  do  earnestly  remember  him  still :  therefore  my  bowels 
are  troubled  for  him ;  I  will  surely  have  mercy  upon  him, 
saith  the  Lord, 227 

SERMON  XIV. 

CHRIST   PRECIOUS  TO    ALL   TRUE   BELIEVERS. 

1  Pet.  II.  7. — Unto  you,  therefore,  which  believe,  he  is  pre- 
cious,          24-7 


VIU  CONTENTS. 

SERMON  XV. 

THE    DANGER   OF    LUKEWAKMNESS    IN    KELIGION. 

Rev.  III.  15,  16. — I  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither  cold 
nor  liot :  I  would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot.  So,  then,  because 
thou  art  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spew  thee 
out  of  my  mouth,       -        -        -        -        -        -        -      267 

SERMON  XVI. 
the  divine  goveen'ment  the  jot  of  oub  woeld. 

Psalm  XGvii.  1. — The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice;  let 
the  multitude  of  the  isles  be  glad  thereof,  -        -      282 

SERMON  XVII. 

the  name  of  god  proclaimed  bt  himself. 

Exodus  xxxiii.  18,  19. — And  he  said,  I  beseech  thee,  show  me 
thy  glory.  And  he  said,  I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass 
before  thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before 
thee, 

with  chap,  xxxiv.  6,  7. 

And  the  Lord  passed  by  before  him,  and  proclaimed.  The  Lord, 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long-suffering  and  abun- 
dant in  goodness  and  truth  ;  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  for- 
giving iniquity,  and  transgression,  and  sin,  and  that  will  by  no 
means  clear  the  guilty,       ------      297 

SERMON  XVIII. 

GOD   IS    LOVE. 

John  iv.  8. — God  is  Love, 315 

SERMON  XIX. 
the  general  resurreotion, 

John  v.  28,  29. — The  hour  is  coming  in  the  which  all  that  are 
in  the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth ;  they 


CONTENTS.  IX 

that  have  done  good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life ;  and  they 
that  have  done  evil,  unto  tlie  resurrection  of  damnation,  338 


SERMON  XX. 

THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT. 

Acts  xvii.  30,  31. — And  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked 
at ;  but  now  commandeth  all  men  every  where  to  repent,  be- 
cause he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  he  will  judge  the 
world  in  righteousness  by  that  Man  whom  he  hath  ordained ; 
whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath 
raised  him  from  the  dead, 357 


SERMON"  XXL 

the  one  thing  needful. 

Luke  x.  41, 42. — And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her,  Martha, 
Martha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things ;  but 
one  thing  is  needful ;  and  Mary  hath  chosen  that  good  part, 
which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her,  -        -      384 


SERMON  XXII. 

SAINTS   SAVED  WITH   DIFFICULTY,  AND  THE    CERTAIN  PERDITION  OP 

SINNERS. 

1  Pet.  IV.  18. — And  if  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where 
shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  ?  -        -      405 


SERMON  XXIIL 

INDIFFERENCE  TO  LIFE  URGED  FROM  ITS  SHORTNESS  AND  VANITY. 

1  CoR.  VII.  29,  30,  31. — But  this  I  say,  brethren,  that  the  time  is 
short :  it  remaineth  that  both  they  that  have  wives,  be  as 
though  they  had  none ;  and  they  that  weep,  as  though  they 
wept  not;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not; 
and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not ;  and  they 
that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of  this 
world  passeth  away, 421 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON  XXIV. 

THE  PREACHING  OF  CHRIST  CRUCIFIED  THE  MEAN  OF  SALVATION. 

1  CoR.  I.  22,  23,  2-i. — For  the  Jews  require  a  sign,  and  the  Greeks 
seek  after  wisdom  :  but  we  preach  Christ  crucified,  unto  the 
Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  unto  the  Greeks  foolishness ;  but 
unto  them  which  are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the 
power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God,        -        .        -      440 

SERMON  XXV. 

INGRATITUDE   TO    GOD    A    HEINOUS   BUT    GENERAL   INIQUITY. 

2  Chron.  XXXII.  25. — But  Hezekiah  rendered  not  again,  according 

to  the  benefit  done  unto  him, 465 


SERMON  XXVI. 

THE    SUFFERINGS   OF   CHRIST,    AND   THFIR   CONSEQUENT    JOYS   AND 
BLESSINGS. 

IsAiAH  Liii.  10,  11. — When  thou  shalt  make  his  soul  an  ofiering 
for  sin,  he  shall  see  his  seed,  he  shall  prolong  his  days,  and  the 
pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  his  hand.  He  shall  see 
of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied,  -      478 


INTRODUCTORY     ESSAY 


LIFE    AND    TIMES    OF   THE    AUTHOR. 


ALBERT  BARNES. 


President  Dayies'  Sermons,  in  the  editions  which  liave  been 
heretofore  published  in  this  country,  have  been  preceded  by  the 
following  discourses :  (1.)  A  sermon  entitled  "The  disinterested 
and  devoted  Christian,  preached  at  Nassau  Hall,  Princeton,  May 
28,  1761 ;  occasioned  by  the  death  of  the  Rev.  Samuel .  Davies, 
A.M.,  late  President  of  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  by  Samuel 
Finley,  D.D.,  President  of  the  said  college,"  on  Rom.  xiv.  7,  8. 
(2.)  A  brief  "Appendix"  annexed  to  the  above  sermon,  contain- 
ing some  of  the  leading  facts  in  the  Hfe  of  President  Davies.  (3.) 
Two  sermons  entitled,  "  Divine  Conduct  Vindicated,"  preached  at 
Haberdashers'  Hall,  London,  March  29,  1761,  on  the  decease  of 
President  Davies,  by  Thomas  Gibbons,  D.D.  (4.)  An  essay  on 
the  character  of  President  Davies,  by  Rev.  David  Bostwick,  M. A., 
of  New  York. 

In  issuing  a  new  edition  of  these  sermons  from  the  press,  it 
has  been  thought  best  to  omit  these  discourses ;  to  arrange  the 
facts  in  regard  to  the  life  of  President  Davies  which  they  furnish ; 
to  add  such  other  facts  as  could  be  obtained  from  other  sources, 
and  to  suggest  some  considerations  which  might  illustrate  the 
nature  of  the  ministry  which  is  demanded  in  the  present  age. 
Much  of  the  matter  found  in  the  discourses  prefixed  to  the  former 
editions  has  little  relevancy  to   the  questions  which  are  asked 


XU  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

respecting  President  Davies,  and  would  be  of  little  use  to  those 
who  might  desire  to  avail  themselves  of  the  aid  which  may  be 
derived  from  the  study  of  his  writings,  in  qualifying  themselves 
for  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

In  preparing  this  Introductory  Essay,  I  have  been  materially 
aided  by  the  "  Notes  "  on  the  life  of  President  Davies  in  the  Ap- 
pendix to  the  Baccalaureate  Discourses  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Green, 
delivered  in  Nassau  Hall,  and  also  by  several  interesting  commu- 
nications addressed  to  me  by  the  Eev.  William  Hill,  D.D.,  of 
"Winchester,  Virginia.  In  the  communications  which  Dr.  Hill 
had  the  kindness  to  make  for  this  Introductory  Essay — to 
whom  I  desire  in  this  manner  to  make  most  grateful  acknowl- 
edgments— he  has  presented  views  of  the  state  of  religion  in 
Virginia  before  the  time  of  Mr.  Davies'  settlement,  and  of  the 
effects  of  his  labors,  of  great  interest.  No  man  living  has  had  bet- 
ter opportunities  of  being  familiar  with  the  character  and  effect  of 
Mr.  Davies'  labors  ;  and  I  am  thankful  that  I  am  permitted  to  be 
the  instrument  in  this  manner  of  preserving  so  many  valuable 
reminiscences  of  his  life.  The  communications  of  Dr.  Hill  are 
preserved  mainly  in  his  own  language. 

The  Reverend  Samuel  Davies  was  born  on  the  third  day  of 
November,  A.D.  1724,  in  the  county  of  Newcastle,  then  in  the 
province  of  Pennsylvania,  but  now  in  the  state  of  Delaware.  He 
is  supposed  to  have  been  of  Welsh  descent,  both  by  his  father's 
and  mother's  side.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  avIio  lived  with 
great  plainness  and  simplicity,  and  who  supported  the  character 
of  an  honest  and  pious  man.*  He  died,  says  Dr.  Hill,  when 
Samuel  was  young.  His  mother  survived  him  but  a  short  time. 
She  was  a  woman  of  eminent  piety,  and  of  very  superior  natural 
powers  of  mind  ;  and  the  distinguished  piety  and  usefulness  of 
her  son,  is  one  among  the  many  instances  which  have  occurred 
where  the  prayers  and  example  of  a  pious  mother  have  been  sig- 
nally blessed. 

He  was  an  only  son.  By  maternal  feelings  and  vows  he  liad 
been  devoted  to  God  ;  and  the  name  Samuel  was  given  to  him 
by  his  mother,  as  an  expression  of  the  same  feelings  which  had 

"  "  He  was  a  man  of  small  property,  of  intellectual  endowments  rather 
below  than  above  the  common  level,  of  unpolished  manners,  but  of  a  blame- 
less life."— Da.  Gbeew. 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XJll 

led  to  the  bestowment  of  the  name  on  the  distinguished  prophet. 
1  Sam.  i.  11.  He  remained  with  his  parents  until  he  was  about 
ten  years  of  age,  and  Avas  taught  by  his  mother,  there  beitig  no 
school  in  the  vicinity.  His  progress  in  these  early  years  is  spoken 
of  as  such  as  to  attract  attention,  and  as  indicating  uncommon  prom- 
ise. During  this  period  of  his  life,  it  is  not  known  that  he  had 
any  impressions  of  special  seriousness.  He  is  described  as  a  boy 
of  uncommon  sprightliness ;  as  demeaning  himself  with  propri- 
ety, and  as  making  rapid  progress  in  his  studies. 

At  about  ten  years  of  age,  he  was  sent  to  an  English  school  at 
some  distance  from  his  father's,  where  he  continued  two  years, 
and  made  great  progress  in  learning.  Away  from  his  father's 
home,  however,  and  lacking  the  counsel  and  example  of  his 
pious  parents,  his  mind  became  more  careless  on  the  subject  of 
religion.  Yet  he  was  then  in  the  habit  of  secret  prayer,  particu- 
larly in  the  evening.  The  reason  why  he  did  this,  as  he  stated 
in  his  diary,  was  that  "  he  feared  lest  he  should  perhaps  die  be- 
fore morning."  It  is  remarkable,  also,  in  his  prayers  at  that 
time,  that  "  he  was  more  ardent  in  his  supplications  for  being  in- 
troduced into  the  gospel  ministry,  than  for  any  other  thing." 

The  first  twelve  years  of  his  life,  however,  he  afterwards  re- 
garded as  having  been  wasted  in  the  most  entire  negligence  of 
God  and  religion.  At  about  this  period  of  his  life,  it  is  probable, 
he  was  brought  to  see  his  need  of  a  Savior,  and  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  service  of  that  God  to  wliom  he  had  been  consecrated 
by  the  vows  and  prayers  of  his  mother.  Of  the  exercises  of  his 
mind  at  that  time,  little  is  now  known.  The  influence  of  his  moth- 
er's example  and  prayers,  and  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
early  devoted  by  her  to  God,  is  known  to  have  produced  a  deep 
impression  on  his  own  mind.  In  a  letter  addressed  by  him  many 
years  after  to  a  friend  in  London,  he  says,  "  That  he  was  blessed 
with  a  mother  whom  he  might  account,  without  filial  vanity  or 
partiahty,  one  of  the  most  eminent  saints  he  ever  knew  upon 
•earth.  And  here,"  says  he,  ""I  cannot  but  mention  to  my  friend 
an  anecdote  known  but  to  few,  that  is,  that  I  am  a  son  of  prayer, 
like  my  namesake  Samuel,  the  prophet ;  and  my  mother  called 
me  Samuel  because,  she  said,  '  I  have  asked  him  of  the  Lord.' 
This  early  dedication  to  God  has  always  been  a  strong  induce- 
ment to  me  to  devote  myself  to  him  as  a  personal  act ;  and  the 


XIV  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

most  important  blessings  of  my  life  I  have  looked  upon  as  im- 
mediate answers  to  the  prayers  of  a  pious  mother." 

AYhat  was  the  immediate  means  by  which  his  mind  was" 
awakened  and  which  led  to  his  conversion,  and  what  were  the 
mental  exercises  through  which  he  then  passed,  are  now  un- 
knoAvn.  No  record  that  I  have  been  able  to  find,  has  furnished 
any  light  on  a  question  of  so  much  interest.  Dr.  Green  remarks 
of  him  that  "  he  was  so  deeply  impressed  with  a  rational  sense 
of  his  danger  as  to  make  him  habitually  uneasy  and  restless,  till 
he  obtained  satisfactory  evidence  of  his  interest  in  the  forgiving 
love  of  God.  Yet  he  was  afterwards  exercised  with  perplexing 
doubts  for  a  long  season  ;  but  at  length,  after  years  of  impartial, 
repeated  self-examination,  he  attained  to  a  settled  confidence  in 
redeeming  grace,  which  he  retained  to  the  end  of  life."  At  what 
time  he  connected  himself  with  the  church  is  now  unknown.  It 
is  supposed  to  have  been  when  he  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age. 
His  conversion  was  soon  succeeded  by  a  purpose  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  service  of  God  in  the  ministry. 

He  was  favored  with  a  liberal  education  at  a  Collegiate  In- 
stitution, but  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  was  made  in  a 
more  private  manner.  A  considerable  part  of  his  classical  and 
theological  education  was  acquired  under  the  care  of  Kev.  Samuel 
Blair,  at  Fog^s  Manor^  in  Chester  county,  Pennsylvania.  Mr. 
Blair  was  an  eminent  preacher  as  well  as  scholar,  and  several 
distinguished  men  in  the  Church,  besides  President  Davies,  re- 
ceived their  education  under  his  instruction.  His  academy  was 
designed  mainly  to  train  young  men  for  the  ministry,  and  the 
course  of  instruction  embraced  both  the  classical  and  theological 
departments.  Mr.  Davies  was  then  probably  somewhat  less  than 
fifteen  years  of  age.  It  is  supposed  that  his  poverty  prevented  his 
remaining  there  for  a  longer  period.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that 
while  there,  he  was  supported,  in  part,  as  will  be  mentioned  in 
another  place,  by  funds  contributed  by  the  very  people  of  Vir- 
ginia, among  whom  he  was  afterwards  settled,  but  to  whom  he 
was  at  that  time  wholly  unknown.  Dr.  Finley  remarks  of  him, 
''  His  love  to  God,  and  tender  concern  for  perishing  sinners,  excit- 
ed liis  eager  desire  of  being  in  a  situation  to  serve  mankind  to 
the  best  advantage.  AYith  this  view  he  engaged  in  the  pursuit 
of  learning,  in  Avhich,  amidst  many  obvious  inconveniences^  he 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XV 

made  surprising  progress,  and,  sooner  than  could  have  been  ex- 
pected, was  found  completely  qualified  for  the  ministerial  office. 
He  passed  the  usual  previous  trials  with  uncommon  approbation  ; 
having  exceeded  the  raised  expectations  of  his  most  intiniate 
friends  and  admirers."  lie  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Pres- 
bytery of  New  Castle.  His  views  and  feelings,  when  he  was  li- 
censed to  preach  the  gospel,  may  be  learned  from  a  fact  stated  by 
Dr.  Gibbons:  "  When  he  was  about  entering  the  ministry,"  says 
he,  "  or  had  not  long  entered  upon  it,  if  I  remember  right,  he  was 
judged  to  be  in  a  deep  and  irrecoverable  consumption.  Finding 
himself  upon  the  borders  of  the  grave,  and  without  any  hopes  of 
recovery,  he  determined  to  spend  the  little  remains  of  an  almost 
exhausted  life,  as  he  apprehended  it,  in  endeavoring  to  advance 
his  Master's  glory  in  the  good  of  souls.  Accordingly  he  removed 
from  the  place  where  he  was,  to  another  about  an  hundred  miles 
distant  that  was  then  in  want  of  a  minister.  Here  he  labored  in 
season  and  out  of  season ;  and,  as  he  told  me,  preached  in  the 
day,  and  had  his  hectic  fever  by  night,  and  to  such  a  degree  as 
to  be  sometimes  delirious,  and  to  stand  in  need  of  persons  to  sit 
up  with  him." 

I  will  here  insert  an  account  of  the  early  labors  of  Mr.  Davies 
in  the  words  of  Dr.  Hill : 

^''  From  the  commencement  of  Mr.  Davies'  labors^  after  Ms  licen- 
stcre^  to  his  settlement  in  Virginia.,  from  1745  to  1748. 

"  Mr.  Davies  was  licensed  to  preach  the  gospel  in  1745,  when 
he  was  just  twenty-one  years  of  age.  From  the  intense  applica- 
tion he  paid  to  his  studies,  his  constitution,  naturally  vigorous, 
became  much  impaired,  so  that  when  he  was  licensed,  he  thought 
himself  and  was  thought  by  others,  to  be  laboring  under  a  pul- 
monary affection  which  would,  in  all  likelihood,  cut  short  his 
days.  After  licensure,  Mr.  Davies  visited  many  vacancies,  some 
in  Pennsylvania,  some  in  Jersey,  but  chiefly  in  Maryland.  These 
ministerial  visits  took  place  just  before  and  after  his  first  visit  to 
Virginia.  The  account  he  gives  of  them  is  this.  (See  Mr.  Davies' 
letter  to  Bellamy,  1751.) 

'  In  Maryland  also,  there  has  been  a  considerable  revival,  or 
shall  I  not  rather  call  it  a  first  plantation  of  religion  in  Baltimore 
County.,  where,  I  am  informed,  Mr.  Whittlesey  is  likely  to  settle. 
In  Kent  County  and  Queen  Anne's,  a  number  of  careless  sinners 


XVI  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

have  been  awakeDed  and  hopefully  brought  to  Christ.  The 
work  was  begun  and  chiefly  carried  on  by  the  instrumentahty  of 
that  favored  man,  Mr.  Robinson,  whose  success,  whenever  I  re- 
flect upon  it,  astonishes  me.  Oh  !  he  did  much  in  a  little  time  ; 
and  who  would  not  choose  such  an  expeditious  pilgrimage 
through  this  world  ?  There  is  in  these  places  a  considerable  con- 
gregation, and  they  have  made  repeated  essays  to  obtain  a  settled 
minister.  There  Avas  a  great  stir  about  religion  in  Buckingham, 
a  place  on  the  sea  shore,  about  four  years  ago,  (i.  e.  in  the  year 
1747,  the  time  Mr.  D.  visited  them,)  which  has  since  spread  and 
issued  in  a  hopeful  conversion  in  many  instances.  They  want  a 
minister. — But  the  most  glorious  displays  of  divine  grace  in  Ma- 
ryland have  been  in  and  about  Somerset  County.  It  began,  I  think, 
in  1745,  by  the  ministry  of  Mr.  Robinson,  and  was  afterwards 
carried  on  by  several  ministers  that  preached  transiently  there. 
I  was  there  about  two  months,  [i.  e.  in  1746  or  1747,]  when  the 
work  was  at  its  height,  and  I  never  saw  such  a  deep  and  spread- 
ing concern :  the  assemblies  were  numerous,  though  in  the  ex- 
tremity of  a  cold  winter,  and  unwearied  in  attending  the  word 
preached  ; — and  frequently  there  were  very  few  among  them  that 
did  not  give  some  plain  indications  of  distress  or  joy.  Oh  !  these 
were  the  happiest  days  that  ever  my  eyes  saw.'  Again,  says  he, 
*  after  I  returned  from  Virginia,  [i.  e.  in  1747,]  I  spent  near  a 
year  under  melancholy  and  consumptive  languishnient,  expecting 
death.  In  the  spring,  1748,  I  began  slowly  to  recover,  though  I 
then  looked  upon  it  only  as  an  intermission  of  a  disorder  that 
would  finally  prove  mortal.  But  upon  the  arrival  of  a  messenger 
from  Hanover,  I  put  my  life  in  my  hand,  and  determined  to  ac- 
cept their  call,  hoping  I  might  live  to  prepare  the  way  for  some 
more  useful  successor,  and  willing  to  expire  under  the  fatigues  of 
duty,  rather  than  involuntary  negligence.' 

"  Thus  was  Mr.  Davies  employed,  notwithstanding  the  very  del- 
icate and  precarious  state  of  his  health,  from  the  latter  end  of  the 
year  1745,  when  he  was  licensed,  till  the  spring  of  1748,  when  he 
located  himself  permanently  in  Virginia.  He  was  invited  to  set- 
tle in  several  other  places,  wliich  offered  advantages  far  superior 
to  the  one  he  selected,  on  many  accounts.  Hear  him  tell  his 
own  story  to  the  Bishop  of  London  upon  this  subject.  '  And  I  sol- 
emnly assure  your  Lordship  that  it  was  not  the  secret  thirst  of 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XVU 

filthy  lucre,  nor  the  prospect  of  any  other  personal  advantage  that 
induced  me  to  settle  here  in  Virginia.  For,  sundry  congregations 
in  Pennsylvania,  my  native  counti-y,  and  in  other  northern  colo- 
nies, most  earnestly  importuned  me  to  settle  among  them;  where 
I  should  have  had  at  least  an  equal  temporal  maintenance,  in- 
comparably more  ease,  leisure  and  peace,  and  the  happiness  of 
the  frequent  society  of  my  Brethren  ;  and  where  I  should  never 
have  made  a  great  noise  or  bustle  in  the  world,  but  concealed 
myself  in  the  crowd  of  my  superior  brethren,  and  spent  my  life 
in  some  httle  service  for  God  and  his  church,  in  some  peaceful 
corner,  which  would  have  been  most  becoming  so  insignificant  a 
creature,  and  more  agreeable  to  my  recluse  natural  temper.  But 
all  these  strong  inducements  were  over-weighed  by  a  sense  of  the 
more  urgent  necessity  of  the  Dissenters  here  ;  as  they  lay  two  or 
three  hundred  miles  distant  from  the  nearest  ministers  of  their 
own  denomination,  and  labored  under  peculiar  embarrassments 
for  the  want  of  a  settled  minister.'  " 

At  this  stage  of  the  notices  of  the  hfe  of  Mr.  Davies,  Avhen  he 
was  about  to  be  settled  in  Virginia  where  he  exerted  so  hnport- 
ant  an  influence  in  the  cause  of  religion,  it  may  be  interesting  to 
present  a  statement  of  the  condition  of  this  colony  before  he  be- 
gan his  labors  there.     It  will  be  given  in  the  words  of  Dr.  Hill : 

'■'■A  hasty  sketch  of  the  state  of  religion  in  Virginia  shortly/  de- 
fore  and  at  the  time  of  Mr.  Samuel  Dames*  settling  in  that  state. 
"  At  the  time  of  the  death  of  the  Eev.  Francis  Makemie,  which 
took  place  in  Accomack  county,  in  the  year  1708,  there  were  two 
organized  churches  in  that  county,  which  he  had  lately  collected 
as  Christain  societies.  One  was  on  a  small  creek  about  five 
miles  from  Drummondton,  the  present  seat  of  government  for  the 
county,  where  Mr.  Makemie  resided  upon  a  valuable  estate 
which  he  there  owned,  and  where  he  had  a  small  meeting-house 
built  and  licensed  as  a  place  of  preaching  according  to  the  provi- 
sions of  the  Act  of  Toleration.  The  other  congregation  was  on 
and  near  the  mouth  of  the  river  Tocomoke,  which  here  consti- 
tutes in  part  the  dividing  line  between  Virginia  and  Maryland. 
Here  also  Mr.  Makemie  owned  a  large  tract  of  land,  extending 
on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  a  large  dwelling  house,  which  was 
now  vacant,  and  which  he  also  got  licensed  as  a  place  of  preaching. 


XVlll  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

'*The  members  coDipo^ing  this  congregation  Avere  scattered 
on  both  sides  of  this  river.  TJie  house  first  licensed,  was  on  the 
Virginia  side.  But  a  little  before  his  death,  by  his  exertions,  a 
new  house  of  worship  was  built  upon  his  land,  on  the  Maryland 
side,  at  a  place  now  called  Eehoboth,  wliich  has  continued  as  a 
place  of  worship  ever  since. 

"  Among  other  reasons  which  led  to  this  cliange  of  location  in 
their  place  of  worship,  no  doubt,  was  a  design  of  getting  beyond 
the  reach  of  Episcopal  persecution  Avhich  universally  prevailed  in 
Virginia,  and  the  security  of  religious  freedom  which,  by  charter, 
was  guaranteed  to  all  sects  in  Marjiand. 

'^  There  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  small  Presbyterian  congrega- 
tion on  the  Elizabeth  River,  near  where  Norfolk  now  stands, 
over  which  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mackey,  from  Ireland,  presided  as  their 
minister.  But  soon  after  Makemie's  death,  he  was  forced  to  fly 
from  intolerant  persecution,  and  we  hear  no  more  of  him  or  his 
congregation  afterwards. 

"After  the  two  small  congregations  of  Accomack  lost  the  la- 
bors and  protection  of  Makemie,  they  were  soon  extinguished, 
and  were  no  more  heard  of.  When,  therefore,  Mr.  Davies  arriv- 
ed in  Virginia,  1748,  just  forty  years  after,  there  was  not  a  sin- 
gle organized  Presbyterian  church  anywhere  to  be  found  in  the 
old  settled  parts  of  Virginia. 

"  About  the  year  1730,  a  large  number  of  Scotch-Irish  emigrants 
from  Ireland  came  over  into  America.  This  current  of  immigra- 
tion became  stronger  and  stronger  for  many  years,  and  formed  a 
frontier  settlement  in  Penns3'lvania,  Virginia,  North  and  South 
Carolina.  All  these  had  received  a  Presbyterian  education  in 
Ireland. 

"  These  Presbyterian  Irish  settlers  formed  a  barrier  settlement 
between  the  older  settlers  from  England  and  the  Indians  of  the 
west. 

"  The  intolerant  Episcopalians  of  Virginia  were  willing  for  a 
while  to  admit  these  settlements  for  their  own  security  from  In- 
dian excursions  among  them,  and  leave  them  unmolested  in  their 
Presbyterian  modes  and  predilections.  Among  these  western 
settlements,  Presbyterian  congregations  were  formed  as  early,  and 
in  some  instances  prior  to  the  church  which  Davies  organized  in 
Hanover.     A  few  of  these  Scotch  and  Irish  settlements  were 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XIX 

supplied  Avith  ministers  from  tlio  '  old  side  '  synod  of  Philadelphia 
and  tlieir  presbytery  of  Donegal.  Congregations  were  formed 
in  Augusta  west  of  the  mountains,  and  two  me'.nbers  of  the  Done- 
gal presbytery  were  settled  there  soon  after  the  great  schism  of 
1741,  and  another  congregation  was  organized  east  of  the  Blue 
ridge,  near  Kockfish  Gap,  and  another  memberT)f  Donegal  Pres- 
bytery located  there,  before  or  about  the  time  Mr.  Davies  settled 
in  Hanover.  Incipient  steps  were  taken  also  to  form  congrega- 
tions in  Frederick  county,  and  a  few  other  places,  about  the  same 
time,  by  the  '  new  light'  synod  of  New  York. 

"There  was  very  little  intercourse  between  these  western 
Scotch-Irish  and  the  lower  counties  of  Virginia  when  Mr.  Da- 
vies  first  came  to  that  colony; — their  interests,  localities,  and 
social  intercourse  were  entirely  of  a  different  character.  But 
there  was  one  exception  to  the  last  general  remark.  As  the  old 
settlements  soutb  of  James  river  did  not  extend  further  west  of 
Richmond  than  about  60  or  70  miles,  a  portion  of  those  foreign 
emigrants  crossed  the  mountains  at  Rockfish  Gap,  and  formed  a 
compact  settlement  there  ;  Avhile  others  of  them  went  further 
south,  crossed  James  river,  and  formed  settlements  in  what  are 
now  called  Charlotte  and  Prince  Edward  counties.  It  w^as  to 
visit  these  settlements,  that  the  Rev.  William  Robinson  was  sent 
out  in  the  year  1743,  by  the  '  new  light '  Presbytery  of  New 
Brunswick.  He  preached  to  the  settlements  in  Frederick,  crossed 
over  at  Rockfish  Gap,  and  preached  to  the  settlements  in  Char- 
lotte and  Prince  Edward  counties.  From  these  settlements  Mr. 
Robinson  continued  his  journey  south  into  the  western  and  Irish 
settlements  in  North  Carolina,  and  was  there  overtaken  by  the 
commissioners  which  had  been  despatched  from  Hanover  to  in- 
duce him  to  pay  them  a  visit  on  his  return.  This  he  promised 
to  do,  and  authorized  them  to  have  an  appointment  made  for 
him  on  a  given  Sabbath  some  weeks  afterwards. 

"  On  the  Saturday  before  the  Sabbath  which  Mr.  Robinson 
had  appointed  to  preach  in  Hanover,  he  had  to  ride  late  at  night 
to  reach  a  tavern,  within  about  8  or  10  miles  of  the  place.  The 
tavern-keeper  was  a  shrewd,  boisterous,  profane  man  ;  and  when 
uttering  some  horrid  oaths,  Mr.  Robinson  ventured  to  reprove 
him  for  his  profanity ;  and  although  it  was  done  in  a  mild  way, 
the  innkeeper  gave  him  a  sarcastic  look,  and  said.  '  Pray,  sir, 


XX.  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

who  are  you,  to  take  such  authority  upon  yourselt'1'  'I  am  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,'  says  Mr.  Robinson.  'Then  you  belie 
your  looks  very  much,'  was  the  reply.  It  is  said  that  Mr.  Rob- 
inson had  had  the  small  pox  very  severely,  which  had  given 
him  a  very  rough  visage,  and  had  deprived  hhn  of  the  sight  of 
one  of  his  eyes.  -It  w*as  with  reference  to  his  forbidding  appear- 
ance that  the  innkeeper  seemed  to  question  his  ministerial  char- 
acter. '  But,'  says  Mr.  Robinson,  '  if  you  wish  certainly  to 
know  whether  I  am  a  minister  or  not,  if  you  will  accompany  me 
to  such  a  place,  you  may  be  convinced  by  hearing  me  preach.' 
'  I  will,'  says  the  inkeeper,  '  if  you  will  preach  from  a  text 
which  I  shall  give  you.'  '  Let  me  hear  it,'  says  Mr.  Robinson, 
'  and  if  there  is  nothing  unsuitable  in  it,  I  will.'  The  waggish 
tavern-keeper,  with  the  wish  of  turning  him  into  ridicule,  as- 
signed him  the  text,  Psalm  cxxxix.  14.  '  For  I  am  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  made.'  Mr.  Robinson  promised,  if  he  Avould  ac- 
company him,  he  would  preach,  among  his  first  sermons,  one 
from  that  text.  He  did  so,  it  is  said  ;  and  before  the  sermon 
ended,  this  wicked  man  was  made  to  see  that  he  Avas  the  mon- 
ster, and  that  he  was  indeed  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  him- 
self; and  it  is  said  that  he  became  a  very  pious  and  useful  mem- 
ber of  the  church.  It  is  thought  that  President  Davies  has  a  ref- 
erence to  his  case,  among  others,  in  his  letter  to  the  Bishop  of 
London,  when  he  says,  '  I  have  been  the  joyful  witness  of  the 
happy  effects  of  those  four  sermons  upon  sundry  thoughtless  im- 
penitents  and  sundry  abandoned  profligates^  who  have  ever  since 
given  good  evidence  of  a  thorough  conversion  from  sin  unto  holi- 
ness.' 

"  Seldom  did  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  produce  such  imme- 
diate and  happy  effects  as  the  four  sermons  which  he  was  allow- 
ed to  preach  at  Morris'  Reading  House.  Let  this  scene  be  de- 
scribed by  one  who  was  competent  to  do  justice  to  it.  '  On  the 
sixth  of  July,  Mr.  Robinson  preached  his  first  sermon,  and  con- 
tinued with  us  preaching  four  days  successively.  The  congrega- 
tion was  large  the  first  day,  and  vastly  increased  the  three  fol- 
lowing. It  is  hard  for  the  liveliest  imagination  to  form  an  idea 
of  the  condition  of  the  assembly  on  those  glorious  days  of  the 
Son  of  Man.  Such  of  us  as  had  been  hungering  for  the  word  be- 
fore, were  lost  in  an  agreeable  surprise  and  astonishment,  and 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXI 

some  could  not  refrain  from  publicly  declaring  their  transports. 
We  were  overwhelmed  with  the  thoughts  of  the  unexpected 
goodness  of  God  in  allowing  us  to  hear  the  gospel  preached  as 
we  never  had  before,  and  in  a  manner  which  far  surpassed  our 
hopes.  Many  that  came  through  curiosity  were  pricked  to  the 
heart,  and  but  few  in  the  numerous  assemblies  on  these  four  days 
appeared  unaffected.  They  returned  alarmed  with  apprehen- 
sions of  their  dangerous  condition,  convinced  of  their  former  en- 
tire ignorance  of  religion,  and  anxiously  inquiring  what  they 
should  do  to  be  saved.  And  there  is  reason  to  believe,  there  was 
as  much  good  done  by  these  four  sermons,  as  by  all  the  sermons 
preached  in  these  parts  since  or  before.'  Supplies  were  regularly 
sent  to  them  until  Mr  Davies  visited  them,  four  years  afterwards. 
It  can  readily  be  seen  that  Mr.  Robinson  visited  them  under  very 
favorable  circumstances.  They  had  the  advantage  of  giving 
timely  notice  of  his  coming ; — they  had  never  heard  preaching 
that  was  worth  the  name  before ; — their  minds  had  for  some 
time  been  deeply  impressed  with  the  necessity  and  importance 
of  religion ; — it  was  not  a  mere  transient  visit,  but  a  protracted 
meeting  of  four  days  and  nights'  continuance,  without  intermis- 
sion ; — and  it  is  probable  there  were  few  ministers  who  knew 
how  to  handle  the  word  of  God  more  dexterously,  and  to  give  to 
each  one  his  portion  in  due  season.  There  were  daily  additions  to 
this  little  flock  of  hopeful  converts.  So  mightily  grew  the  word 
of  God  and  prevailed  among  them. 

"  We  have  no  right  to  inquire  now  what  might  have  been  the 
consequences  if  Mr.  Robinson  had  been  permitted  to  have  pro- 
longed his  visit,  and  extended  his  labors  through  the  regions 
round  about,  which  were  so  white  and  ripe  for  the  harvest.  But 
he  had  to  make  a  precipitate  retreat,  and  commence  his  flight 
from  the  sheriffs,  who  were  ordered  out  for  his  apprehension,  by 
persecuting  Episcopalians. 

"As  Mr.  Robinson  had  to  leave  them  so  hastily  and  unexpect- 
edly, his  many  warm  friends  had  no  opportunity  to  contribute 
anything  as  a  compensation,  or  even  to  defray  his  expenses.  A 
collection  was  raised  the  next  day,  and  sent  by  some  trusty 
friends  to  overtake  him,  and  put  it  in  his  possession.  They  did 
overtake  him,  but  he  peremptorily  refused  to  receive  a  penny  of 
it ;  saying,  he  knew  what  his  enemies  would  say  if  he  should  re- 


XXll  LIFE    AND    TIME3 

ceive  any  part  of  it,  and  he  was  determined  he  would  give  them 
no  occasion  to  speak  evil  of  either  himself  or  his  master's  cause, 
Avhich  he  advocated.  He  at  last  said,  there  was  one  condition 
upon  which  he  would  receive  the  money.  He  knew  a  very  pious 
and  promising  young  man,  who  was  in  very  indigent  circum- 
stances, and  had  been  for  some  years  prosecuting  his  studies  for 
the  ministry ;  he  would  with  their  leave  expend  it  upon  him, 
with  the  promise  that  if  he  should  enter  the  ministry,  he  should 
come  and  preach  to  them.  To  this  they  consented.  Samuel 
Davies,  then  studying  under  the  care  of  the  Kev.  Samuel  Blair, 
at  Fogg's  Manor,  Pennsylvania,  was  this  youth  ;  and  by  his  com- 
ing and  laboring  among  thein,  tlie  pledge  was  redeemed. 

"  The  Episcopal  Church  of  England  had  been  established  by 
law  in  Virginia,  from  its  first  settlement; — the  ministers,  gener- 
ally speaking,  were  men  sent  from  Great  Britain  to  seek  their 
fortunes,  or  to  recover  broken  ones  in  America.  Although  nom- 
inally belonging  to  the  see  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  yet,  in  fact, 
they  were  subject  to  no  supervision,  amenable  for  misconduct  to 
no  human  authority  ;  and  it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  most  of 
them  were  addicted  to  horse-racing,  cock-figliting,  card-playing, 
and  drinking,  and,  in  fact,  were  the  mere  parasites  of  the  rich  and 
the  great.  This  being  generally  their  character,  with  here  and 
there  rare  exceptions,  religion  was  and  had  long  been  at  a  very 
low  ebb.  The  common  people  had  lost  all  confidence  in  their 
clerg}^,  and  were  generally  ready  to  hear  any  pious  minister 
gladly,  and  would  have  easily  been  led  off  to  another  church,  had 
they  not  been  restrained  by  high-handed  civil  authority.  There 
perhaps  could  no  other  people  be  found  where  the  great  mass  of 
the  community  were  more  open  to  conviction  and  accessible  by 
the  gospel,  whenever  and  wherever  it  was  faithfully  preached. 
Thus  impressible  did  Mr.  Davies  find  Virginia  when  he  settled  in 
Hanover.  He  was  the  solitary  Presbyterian  minister  of  the  "  new 
light  "  order  then  settled  in  the  colony.  The  three  ''old  side" 
ministers  who  were  settled,  one  in  Albemarle,  and  two  in  Augusta, 
were  mere  drones,  and  did  the  cause  more  injury  than  benefit, 
two  of  whom  fell  under  the  heavy  censures  of  the  church  before 
their  death." 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXlll 

"  The  labors  Mr.  Davies  had  to  undergo,  and  the  dijfficulties  and 

opposition  with  which  he  had  to  contend,  whe?i  he  first  under- 

took  his  charge  in  Virginia. 

"It  should  be  recollected  that  when  Mr.  Davies  first  settled  in 
Virginia,  there  was  not  another  minister  in  the  same  ecclesiasti- 
cal connection  with  himself  in  the  whole  bounds  of  Virginia,  or 
within  less  than  between  two  and  three  hundred  miles  of  him. 

"It  is  true  there  were  three  other  Presbyterian  ministers  who 
settled  in  the  colouy  about  the  same  time,  and  some  one  or  more 
of  them  might  have  preceded  him.  These  were  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Black,  in  Albemarle  county,  near  Rock-fish  Gap,  of  the  Blue 
Ridge  ;  the  Rev.  John  Craig,  and  Alexander  Miller,  in  what  was 
then  Augusta  county,  in  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  west  of  the  Blue 
Ridge.  But  these  w^ere  old  side  Presbyterians,  and  belonged  to 
the  old  side  Presbytery  of  Donegal  and  the  Synod  of  Philadelphia, 
and  were  so  far  from  rendering  him  any  assistance,  that  they 
were  among  his  inveterate  enemies  and  bitterest  revilers,  as  au- 
thentic records  and  testimony  of  another  character  can  abun- 
dantly establish  if  necessary.  There  is  no  better  way  of  making 
known  the  task  he  had  undertaken,  and  the  labor  he  actually 
did  undergo,  than  to  take  it  from  Mr.  Davies'  own  pen,  in  his  let- 
ter addressed  to  the  Bishop  of  London,  dated  May  21st,  1752, 
which  was  four  years  after  his  settlement  in  Virginia. 

"  '  The  frontier  counties  of  this  colony,'  he  says,  '  about  one 
hundred  miles  west  and  south-west  from  Hanover,  have  been 
lately  settled  by  people  that  chiefly  came  from  Ireland  originally, 
but  immediately  from  the  northern  colonies,  who  were  educated 
Presbyterians,  and  had  been,  during  their  residence  there,  under 
the  care  of  ministers  belonging  to  the  Synod  of  N'ew  York,  of 
which  I  am  a  member.  Their  settling  in  Virginia  has  been 
many  ways  beneficial  to  it,  which  I  am  sure,  however,  most  of 
them  would  not  have  done,  had  they  expected  any  restraints  on 
the  inoffensive  exercise  of  their  religion,  according  to  their  con- 
sciences. After  their  removal,  they  continued  to  petition  the  Sy- 
nod of  New  York,  and  particularly  the  Presbytery  of  New  Castle, 
which  w^as  nearest  to  them,  for  ministers  to  be  sent  to  them.  But 
as  the  ministers  of  the  said  Synod  and  of  the  country  w^ere  few, 
and  vastly  disproportioned  to  the  many  congregations  under  their 
care,  they  could  not  provide  these  vacancies  with  settled  pastors. 


XXIV  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

And  what  could  Ihey  do  in  this  case  ?  The  only  expedient  in  their 
poAver  was  to  appoint  some  of  their  members  to  travel  alternate- 
ly into  these  destitute  congregations,  and  officiate  among  them 
as  long  as  would  comport  with  their  circumstances.'  '  The 
same  method  was  taken,  and  for  the  same  reason,  to  supply  the 
dissenters  in  and  about  Hanover,  before  my  settlement  among 
them,  and  this  raised  the  clamor  still  higher. 

"  '  There  are  now  in  the  frontier  counties  at  least  five  congre- 
gations of  Presbyterians,  who,  though  they  have  long  used  the 
most  vigorous  endeavors  to  obtain  settled  ministers  among  them, 
have  not  succeeded  yet,  by  reason  of  the  scarcity  of  ministers, 
and  the  number  of  vacancies  in  other  parts,  particularly  in  Penn- 
sylvania and  the  Jerseys  ;  and  we  have  no  way  to  answer  their 
importunate  petitions,  but  by  sending  a  minister  now  and  then 
to  them  to  officiate  transiently  among  them.  And  as  the  people 
under  my  charge  are  so  numerous,  and  so  dispersed,  that  I  can- 
not allow  them  at  each  meetmg-house  such  a  share  of  my  minis- 
trations as  is  correspondent  to  their  necessity,  the  said  Synod  has 
twice  or  thrice  in  the  space  of  three  years,  sent  a  minister  to 
assist  me  for  a  few  Sabbaths.  These  are^the  only  itinerations 
that  we  have  been  charged  with,  in  this  colony ;  and  whether  we 
should  not  rather  run  the  risk  of  this  causeless  charge,  than  suffer 
these  vacancies,  who  eagerly  look  to  us  for  the  bread  of  life,  to 
perish  through  a  famine  of  the  w^ord  of  the  Lord,  who  can  enter- 
tain a  doubt? 

"  '  But  as  I  am  particularly  accused  of  intrusive  schismatical 
itinerations,  I  am  more  particularly  concerned  to  vindicate  my- 
self. It  will  be  necessary  therefore  to  inform  3^our  lordship,  [ad- 
dressed to  the  Bishop  of  London,]  of  the  circumstances  of  the  dis- 
senters in  and  about  Hanover,  who  are  under  my  ministerial  care. 

"  The  dissenters  here  and  hereabout  are  only  sufficiently  nu- 
merous to  form  two  distinct  organized  congregations,  or  particu- 
lar churches  ;  and  did  they  live  contiguous,  two  meeting-houses 
would  be  sufficient  for  them,  and  neither  they  nor  myself  would 
desire  more.  But  they  are  so  dispersed,  that  they  cannot  con- 
vene for  public  worship,  unless  they  have  a  considerable  number 
of  places  licensed ; — and  yet  they  are  so  few,  that  they  cannot 
form  a  particular  organized  church  at  each  place.  There  are 
meeting-houses  licensed  in  five  diffei-ent  counties  in  this  part  of 


OV    THE    ALTHOK.  XXV 

the  stiUe,  but  tiio  extremes  of  my  cliurge  lie  80  or  90  miles 
apart;  and  the  dis.seiiters  under  my  care  are  scattered  through 
six  or  seven  difl'erent  counties.  The  greatest  number  of  them,  I 
suppose  about  100  families  at  least,  is  in  Hanover,  where  there 
are  three  meeting-houses  licensed.  About  20  or  30  families  are 
in  Henrico  ;  about  10  or  12  in  Caroline  ;  about  15  or  20  in  Gooch- 
land ;  and  about  the  same  number  in  Louisa  ;  in  each  of  the  four 
last-mentioned  counties  there  is  at  this  time  but  one  meeting- 
liouse  licensed.  Besides  these,  there  are  about  15  or  20  tamilies 
in  Cumberland  county,  [between  80  or  90  miles  from  Mr.  Davies 
residence  in  Hanover,]  where  there  is  no  place  of  worship  licensed 
for  our  use,  and  about  the  same  number  in  and  about  New  Kent, 
where  a  license  was  granted  by  the  court  of  that  county,  but 
afterwards  recalled  by  the  General  Court.  [The  doctrine  ad- 
vanced by  the  General  Court  was,  that  the  act  of  toleration,  if  it 
extended  at  all  to  the  colonies,  did  not  admit  of  licensing  any 
place  of  worsliip  for  a  dissenting  minister,  except  one  in  the 
county  where  he  resided,  and  where  the  dissenting  member 
regularly  and  uniformly  attended.  This  was  done  to  prevent 
itinerant  preachers^  as  they  were  called,  from  going  from  county 
to  county,  and  making  proselytes  from  the  established  church  of 
England.] 

"  '  The  counties,'  says  Mr.  Davies  in  continuance,  '  are  large, 
generally  40  or  50  miles  in  length,  and  about  20  or  30  in  breadth ; 
so  that,  though  members  may  live  in  one  county,  it  would  be 
impossible  for  them  all  to  convene  at  one  place,  and  much  more 
80  when  they  are  dispersed  through  so  many  counties.  Though 
there  are  now  seven  places  of  worship  licensed,  yet  the  nearest 
to  each  other  are  12  or  15  miles  apart ;  and  many  have  to  travel 
from  10,  15,  or  20  miles  to  the  nearest,  and  from  40  to  60  miles 
to  the  other  places  licensed ;  nay,  some  of  them  have  from  30  to 
40  miles  to  the  nearest  place  of  worship.  And  such  is  the  scarc- 
ity of  ministers  in  the  Synod  of  New  York,  and  so  great  the  num- 
ber of  congregations  under  their  care,  that  though  a  part  of  my 
congregation  with  my  hearty  concurrence,  used  repeated  endeav- 
ors to  obtain  another  minister  to  relieve  me  of  a  charge  of  them, 
they  have  not  been  able  to  succeed  as  yet.  So  that  all  the  dis- 
senters here  depend  entirely  upon  me  to  officiate  among  them, 
as  there  is  no  other  minister  of  their  own  denomination  within 


XXVI  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

200  miles  or  more,  except  wliere  one  of  my  brethren  from  tLe 
nortli  is  appointed  to  pay  them  a  transient  visit  for  two  or  three 
Sabbaths  once  in  a,  year  or  two  ;  and  as  was  observed,  they  can- 
not attend  on  my  ministry  at  more  than  one  or  tAvo  places,  on 
account  of  the  distance,  nor  constitute  a  complete  particular 
church  at  each  place  of  meeting  on  account  of  the  smallness  of 
their  numbers,' 

''  These  extracts  from  Mr.  Davies'  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Lon- 
don, may  give  us  a  glance  of  the  Avork  he  had  to  perform,  and  of 
the  opposition  against  which  he  had  to  contend.  It  was  his 
practice  to  preach  more  frequently  at  one  of  the  meeting-houses 
in  Hanover  than  at  any  of  the  rest  of  the  places.  This  meeting- 
house Avas  built  near  Mr.  Morris's  reading-house,  AA^here  Presby- 
terianism  originated,  and  AA'here  they  Avere  much  more  numerous 
than  anyAvhere  else,  and  near  to  AA-hich  Mr.  Davies  had  fixed  his 
residence  Avith  his  family.  But  it  Avas  his  regular  custom  to 
preach  one  Sabbath  at  least  in  three  or  four  months,  at  each  of 
the  other  jjlaces  licensed  ;  for  as  yet  he  did  not  venture  to  preach 
in  any  other  place  that  Avas  not  licensed  by  laAv.  Beside  preach- 
ing on  the  Sabbath,  he  ventured  to  preach  frequently  at  his  dif- 
ferent chapels  of  ease,  on  Aveak  days,  Avhich  proved  highly  bene- 
ficial, though  it  Avas  the  ground  of  heavy  charges  and  strenuous 
opposition  from  Episcopal  clergymen.  The  reason  for  Avhich 
Avas,  that  many  Episcopalians,  Avho  dare  not  absent  themselves 
from  their  own  parish  church  to  hear  Mr.  Davies  on  the  Sabbath, 
felt  no  scruple  to  hear  him  on  a  week  day — some  out  of  curios- 
ity to  hear  a  man  Avhose  fame  was  noAV  much  noised  abroad 
through  the  country,  and  many  Avere  desirous  of  hearing  him 
from  a  much  better  motive,  it  is  believed.  But  it  is  generally  be- 
licA'ed  that  more  persons  Avere  brought  under  serious  impressions 
by  his  week  day  sermons  than  those  of  the  Sabbath  ;  and  it  Avas 
chiefly  by  these  meetings  that  so  many  were  induced  to  forsake 
the  Avorship  of  the  established  church,  which  they  had  found  to 
be  80  unprofitable  in  times  past,  and  resort  to  ordinances  Avhich 
they  found  more  beneficial ;  and  thus  they  not  only  became  true 
Christians,  but  rapidly  increased  the  number  of  Presbyterians. 
This  excited  the  ire,  and  quickened  the  opposition  of  theEpisco- 
l)alians. 

"  While  Mr.  Davies  Avas  thus  left  to  labor  without  any  co-ope- 


OF    THE    AUTHOll.  XXVll 

ration  from  his  brethren,  except  on  occasional  visits  sent  by  tlie 
Synod  of  ITew  York  to  aid  him  two  or  three  Sabbaths,  Avith  sucli 
intervals  as  made  them  few  and  far  between,  he  was  continually 
extending  his  labors,  and  occupying  new  territory. 

"The  more  he  became  known,  the  greater  was  the  crowd  that 
followed  after  him ;  until  the  pressing  invitations  which  he  re- 
ceived from  various  quarters,  became  almost  overwhelming  to 
his  sensitive  mind. 

"When  he  first  came  to  Virginia,  a  youthful  stranger,  the 
clergy  of  the  establishment  affected  to  treat  him  with  sovereign 
contempt ;  several  scurrilous  lampoons  were  written  against  him, 
and  the  sarcastic  songs  which  were  put  into  the  mouths  of  drunk- 
ards to  turn  him  into  ridicule,  are  remembered  by  some  old 
people  to  the  present  day.  It  was  soon  seen  that  such  light 
weapons  as  these  rather  brought  him  into  notice  than  did  him 
any  injury. 

"  He  was  now  frequently  called  before  the  General  Court,  and 
the  Governor  and  Council,  who  seriously  threatened  to  recall  the 
licenses  which  he  had  heretofore  obtained,  and  to  deny  him  any 
of  the  privileges  secured  to  dissenters  by  the  act  of  toleration ; 
and  not  only  threatened  to  banish  him  the  colony,  but  did  actu- 
ally cause  some  that  were  sent  to  his  aid,  to  depart  from  the  ter- 
ritory. 

"  He  had  made  himself  so  great  a  master  of  the  laws  of  Eng- 
land, and  of  his  civil  and  religious  rights  and  privileges,  that  he 
was  never  in  the  least  daunted  in  answering  all  their  indictments, 
nor  in  facing  their  most  able  councillors.  He  always  chose  to 
plead  his  own  cause,  and  acquitted  himself  in  such  a  manner  as 
made  him  many  friends  and  admirers,  and  even  his  enemies  to 
say,    '  WTiat  a  lawyer  was  spoiled  when  Davies  took  the  pulpit  P 

"  The  home  of  Mr.  Davies  was  about  twelve  miles  from  Rich- 
mond ;  but  his  occasional  labors,  as  is  seen  by  the  above  account, 
were  extended  through  a  considerable  part  of  the  colony  ;  and  he 
acquired,  probably,  a  greater  influence  than  any  other  preacher 
in  Virginia  ever  possessed.  The  limits  of  the  Presbytery  of  Han- 
over originally  comprehended  the  whole  of  Virginia,  and  a  con- 
siderable part,  if  not  the  whole  of  North  Carolina.  Through 
this  extensive  region  there  were  scattered  numerous  settlements 
of  Protestants.     Of  this  whole  interest  which  '  dissented '  from 


XXVIU  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

the  tlieii  established  church  of  Virginia,  Mr.  Davies  was  the  ani- 
mating soul.  His  popularity  in  Virginia  was  almost  unbounded ; 
so  that  he  was  invited  and  urged  to  preach  in  every  part  of  the 
colony.  The  Presbytery  to  which  he  belonged,  willing  to  gratify 
the  people  as  far  as  in  their  power,  directed  him  to  supply  vacan- 
cies, with  a  frequency  which  came  at  last  to  be  offensive  to  the 
people  of  his  own  immediate  charge.  They  warmly  remonstrat- 
ed to  the  Presbytery  against  being  deprived  so  much  of  their  pas- 
tor's time  and  labors.  To  Mr.  Davies,  however,  no  blame  was 
attached  by  either  party.  He  appeared  willing  to  spend  and  be 
spent  in  any  service  to  whicli  duty  called  him. 

"The  church  in  which  he  preached  in  Hanover,  and  which 
was  erected  for  him  in  1757,  is  still  standing.  It  is  about  ten 
miles  from  the  city  of  Richmond,  and  is  a  remarkably  plain  build- 
ing, of  wood,  without  a  steeple,  and  capable  of  accommodating 
about  five  hundred  persons.  In  pleasant  weather,  the  number 
of  persons  who  came  to  hear  him  was  so  great,  that  the  church 
would  not  contain  them,  and  worship  was  held  in  a  neighboring 
grove." 

It  was  during  Mr.  Davies'  residence  in  Virginia,  that,  in  com- 
pany with  the  Rev.  Gilbert  Tennant,  he  was  sent  to  London  to 
solicit  donations  for  the  college  of  New  Jersey.  Of  this  visit.  Dr. 
Hill  has  furnished  the  following  account. 

"Mr.  Davies'  popularity  as  an  eloquent  pulpit  orator  —  his  able 
defences  before  the  Governor  and  General  court  of  Virginia, — his 
military  sermons,  and  his  patriotic  addresses  upon  different  im- 
portant occasions,  together  with  his  very  able  correspondence 
with  the  Bishop  of  London,  and  other  distinguished  men  in  Eng- 
land, had  raised  his  reputation  to  such  a  height,  that  in  the  year 
1753,  when  the  '  new  side '  Synod,  of  New  York,  were  looking 
out  for  a  companion  and  coadjutor  to  the  Rev.  Gilbert  Tennant, 
to  send  to  Great  Britain,  they  could  find  no  one  in  all  their  num- 
ber who  was  thought  to  possess  qualifications  for  that  undertak- 
ing to  compare  with  those  possessed  by  Mr.  Davies,  who  was 
then  but  a  mere  youth,  still  under  thirty  years  of  age. 

"  Mr.  Davies'  modesty  induced  him  strongly  to  remonstrate 
against  devolving  such  a  trust  upon  him; — and  his  people  felt 
Btill  stronger  objections  to  this  appointment.     They  knew  how 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXIX 

important  his  services  were  at  that  critical  period  in  theii-  nffjiirs, 
and  that  no  one  else  could  supply  his  place  with  equal  ii>]van- 
tage.  Besides  this,  they  had  another  objection.  They  knew  his 
excellencies  better  than  any  other  people,  for  he  came  to  them 
when  a  youth,  and  it  was  among  them  that  his  powers  had 
ripened  ;  and  they  were  afraid  if  he  became  extensively  known, 
he  would  be  sought  after  by  other  places,  which  could  afford 
him  a  much  easier  and  more  comfortable  settlement  than  they 
could,  and  that  they  would  thereby  endanger  the  loss  of  him 
altogether. 

"  Subsequent  events,  which  soon  after  followed,  showed  how 
well-founded  their  fears  and  appreliensions  were.  Although  the 
Synod  took  care  to  have  Mr.  Davies'  people  supplied  during  the 
year  of  his  absence,  yet  no  one  could,  in  their  estimation,  render 
services  equivalent  to  his.  It  is  generally  thought  that  the  pro- 
gress of  Presbyterianism  was  seriously  affected  by  Mr.  Davies' 
absence  from  Virginia,  and  that  its  prospects  were  hardly  ever  as 
promising  afterwards  as  before. 

''  What  was  the  precise  amount  of  funds  raised  by  this  em- 
bassy to  Great  Britain;  the  mode  of  their  operations;  whether 
they  went  together,  or  separated,  and  took  different  routes,  is  not 
known.  They  visited  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland  ;  and  there 
is  no  doubt  they  raised  a  considerable  amount,  and  enlisted  many 
friends  and  patrons  for  Princeton  Seminary — as  that  institution 
rose  rapidly  into  notice  and  usefulness  from  that  time.  When 
Mr.  Davies  was  in  London,  his  fame  had  preceded  him,  so  that 
his  preaching  was  much  resorted  to  by  dissenters  and  others ; 
and  an  occurrence  is  said  to  have  taken  place  wliich  was  much 
spoken  of  among  his  friends,  and  with  some  little  exultation,  after 
his  return. 

"  The  circumstance  alluded  to  is  this — that  his  fame  as  a  pul- 
pit orator  was  so  great  in  London,  that  some  noblemen  who  had 
heard  him,  mentioned  in  the  presence  of  King  George  II.,  that 
there  was  a  very  distinguished  dissenting  preacher  in  London 
from  the  colony  of  Virginia,  who  was  attracting  great  notice,  and 
drawing  after  him  very  crowded  audiences;  upon  which  the 
King  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  liear  him,  and  his  chaplain  in- 
vited him  to  preach  in  his  chapel.  Mr.  Davies  is  said  to  have 
complied,  and  preached  before  a  splendid  audience,  composed  of 


XXX  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

the  royal  faiiiil}',  and  many  of  tlie  nobility  of  the  realm.  It  is 
further  said,  that  ^vhile  Mr.  D.  was  preaching,  the  King  was 
seen  speaking  at  diiferent  times  to  those  around  him,  who  were 
seen  also  to  smile.  Mr.  Davies  observed  it,  and  was  shocked  at 
Avhat  he  thought  was  irreverence  in  the  house  of  God,  that  was 
iTtterly  inexcusable  in  one  whose  example  might  have  such  in- 
fluence. After  pausing  and  looking  sternly  in  that  direction  sev- 
eral times,  the  preacher  proceeded  in  his  discourse,  when  the 
same  offensive  behavior  was  still  observed.  The  American 
dissenter  is  said  then  to  have  exclaimed,  '  When  the  lion  roars, 
the  beasts  of  the  forest  all  tremNe;  and  when  King  Jesus  speaks, 
the  princes  of  the  earth  should  Tccep  silence.''  The  King  is  said  to 
have  given  a  significant,  but  courteous  bow  to  the  preacher,  and 
sat  very  composedly  and  reverently  during  the  rest  of  the  ser- 
vice. If  this  be  a  correct  statement  of  the  fact  that  took  place,  it 
speaks  louder  than  anything  that  has  yet  been  said  in  praise  of 
Mr.  Davies'  promptness,  intrepidity,  and  solemn  self-possesssion 
while  engaged  in  delivering  God's  messages  to  his  perishing  fel- 
low-men, Whatever  authority  Mr.  Davies'  friends  had  for  nar- 
rating this  story  is  not  now  known,  but  it  was  universally  be- 
lieved among  them  to  have  occurred. 

"  The  explanation  given  of  this  strange  affair  is  this.  The 
King  is  said  to  have  been  so  enraptured  with  Mr.  Davies'  solemn 
and  impressive  manner  and  eloquence,  that  he  was  constrained 
repeatedly  to  express  his  astonishment  and  applause  to  those 
around  him,  and  felt  anything  else  but  irreverence  upon  the  oc- 
casion. He  was  so  delighted  with  him,  that  he  sent  him  an  in- 
vitation to  call  upon  him  at  a  given  time,  which  interview  un- 
questionably did  take  place,  and  was  repeated  more  than  once, 
after  which,  and  the  explanations  which  were  given,  Mr.  Davies 
was  delighted  with  his  Majesty,  and  not  only  received  a  hand- 
some donation  from  him  for  the  college  whose  cause  he  was  ad- 
vocating, but  was  led  to  form  a  most  exalted  opinion  of  George 
II.  ever  afterwards,  as  may  be  learned  from  a  funeral  sermon  he 
preached  upon  his  death  and  character." 

The  following  account  by  Dr.  Hill,  will  furnish  an  interesting 
and  useful   account  of  "  the  style  and  manner  of  Mr.  Davies 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXXI 

f)reac'hing^  the  effects  'produced ;  and  the  influence  which  he  ac- 
quired. 

"  Mr  Davies  possessed  naturally  every  qualification,  both  of 
body  and  mind,  to  make  him  an  accomplished  orator,  and  fit 
him  for  the  pulpit.  His  frame  was  tall,  well-proportioned,  erect, 
and  comely  ; — his  port  and  carriage  were  easy,  graceful,  manly, 
and  dignified  ; — his  voice  clear,  loud  distinct,  melodious,  and  well- 
modulated  ; — and  his  natural  genius  was  strong  and  masculine  ; 
his  understanding  clear ;  his  memory  retentive ;  his  invention 
quick  ;  his  imagination  sprightly  and  fiorid,  his  thoughts  sub- 
lime ;  and  his  language  elegant,  strong  and  expressive.  His 
temper  or  disposition  was  naturally  modest,  diffident,  and  retir- 
ing ;  but  when  roused  by  ditficulties,  or  strongly  urged  by  a  sense 
of  duty,  he  was,  from  a  consciousness  of  his  mental  resources, 
enterprising  bold,  and  fearless.  He  w^as  remarkably  neat  and 
tasteful  in  his  dress,  and  dignified  and  polite  in  his  manners.  A 
distinguished  character  of  the  day,  in  seeing  him  walk  through  a 
court-yard  once,  said,  '  he  looked  liJce  the  ambassador  of  some 
great  king.'' 

"  Mr.  Davies  wrote  and  prepared  his  sermons  with  great  care  : 
this  he  was  enabled  to  do,  notwithstanding  the  great  and  nmlti- 
plied  pastoral  duties  which  he  had  to  perform,  from  the  fact  that 
he  had  so  many  places  of  preaching,  and  that  they  were  so  wide 
apart,  that  one  sermon  could  be  preached  throughout  his  exten- 
sive range,  without  much  danger  of  any  of  his  hearers  having 
heard  the  same  discourse  twice.  His  common  practice  was  to 
take  his  manuscripts  with  him  into  the  pulpit,  and  make  more 
or  less  use  of  them  in  delivering  his  discourses.  But  his  memory 
was  such,  and  the  frequent  use  he  was  permitted  to  make  of  the 
same  sermon  rendered  it  so  familiar  that  he  was  never  tram- 
meled in  his  delivery.  Though  this  was  his  common  practice 
yet  he  would  sometimes  extemporize  to  very  happy  effect.  One 
of  his  confidential  elders  once  said  to  him — '  Mr.  Davies,  how  is 
it,  that  you,  who  are  so  well  informed  upon  all  theological  sub- 
jects, and  can  express  yourself  with  so  much  ease  and  readiness, 
npon  any  subject,  and  in  any  company,  and  have  language  so  at 
your  command,  should  think  it  necessary  to  prepare  and  write 
your  sermons  with  so  much  care,  and  take  your  notes  into  the 
pulpit,  and  make  such  constant  use  of  them?     Why  do  you  not. 


XXXll  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

like  many  other  preachers,  oftener  preach  extempore  V  Mr.  Da- 
vies'  reply  was  this  : — '  I  ahva3^s  thought  it  to  be  a  most  awful 
thing  to  go  into  the  pulpit  and  there  speak  nonsense  in  the  name 
of  God.  Besides,  when  I  have  an  opportunity  of  preparing,  and 
neglect  to  do  so,  I  am  afraid  to  look  up  to  God  for  assistance,  for 
that  would  be  to  ask  him  to  countenance  my  negligence.  But 
when  I  am  evidently  called  upon  to  preach,  and  have  had  no  op- 
portunity to  make  suitable  preparation,  if  I  see  it  clearly  to  be 
my  duty,  I  am  not  afraid  to  try  to  preach  extempore,  and  I  can 
with  confidence  look  up  to  God  for  assistance.' 

"  JSTo  one  can  be  at  a  loss  to  know  what  was  the  style  of  Mr. 
Davies'  preaching,  who  has  ever  read  his  printed  sermons,  for 
they  are  verbatim^  as  he  delivered  them,  and  no  doubt  were  print- 
ed from  the  very  manuscripts  which  he  used  in  the  pulpit.  It 
should  not  be  thought  wonderful  if  such  sermons,  accompanied 
with  his  dignified  appearance — appropriate  gestures — clear,  well 
modulated  and  melodious  voice,  should  have  interested  the  peo- 
ple, and  insured  him  overwhelming  congregations.  His  preach- 
ing was  intelligible  and  attractive  to  people  of  every  class  and 
condition — the  high  and  the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor.  He  had 
an  unusual  popularity  among  the  poor  illiterate  slaves ;  took 
great  pains  with  them,  and  spent  much  time  in  having  them 
taught  to  read,  and  furnishing  them  with  Bibles  and  hymn  books, 
and  other  suitable  books.  When  he  left  Virginia,  it  is  probable 
his  colored  communicants  were  more  numerous  than  the  white. 
The  writer  of  this  has  known  many  of  his  black  members,  and 
they  have  always  been  esteemed  by  their  masters  as  servants  of 
a  superior  order  ;  which  secured  to  them  not  only  the  friendship 
and  confidence  of  their  owners,  but  treatment  more  like  Ohristain 
brethren  than  slaves. 

"  Mr.  Davies,  in  his  letters  to  Mr.  Bellamy  and  others,  speaks 
very  discouragingly  of  his  success,  especially  as  contrasted  with 
the  effects  produced  before  his  arrival,  by  the  four  days'  preach- 
ing of  Mr.  Robinson;  but  he  evidently  does  not  do  himself  jus- 
tice by  such  remarks  and  comparisons.  Mr.  Robinson's  labors 
were  all  employed  at  one  place,  in  Hanover,  among  the  same 
people,  and  without  any  intermission.  It  is  natural,  therefore, 
without  overlooking  the  supernatural  aids  of  divine  grace,  to  ex- 
pect that  instrumentalities,  thus  employed,  should  produce  more 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXXUl 

visible  effects  than  if  the  same  means  had  been  spread  over  as 
many  different  counties,  among  different  sets  of  hearers,  and  with 
considerable  intervals  of  time  between  the  sermons.  The  fruits 
of  Mr.  Robinson's  labors  -were  visible  at  once,  but  upon  a  very 
limited  scale,  compared  with  the  extensive  field  over  which  Mr. 
Davies  had  not  only  to  scatter  the  seed,  but  to  prepare  the  soil 
by  subduing  the  thorns  and  noxious  weeds.  No  doubt  mucli  of 
Mr.  Davies'  work  was  lost,  because  he  had  always  to  hurry  away 
to  some  other  part  of  his  extensive  bounds.  Those  that  came 
after  Mr.  Davies,  were  better  able  to  judge  of  his  usefulness  than 
he  was  himself  at  the  time.  There  was  no  remarkable  revival 
of  religion  during  his  ministry,  bnt  there  was  a  gradual  increase, 
and  a  growing  and  deepening  impression  of  the  necessity  and  im- 
portance of  religion.  If  he  could  have  devoted  his  labors,  and 
concentrated  his  energies,  upon  a  smaller  field,  no  doubt  there 
would  have  been  more  visible  fruits  seen  ;  but  whether  he  did 
not  perform  a  greater  and  better  work,  by  preparing  an  extensive 
field  for  many  laborers  to  come  after  and  gather  the  fruits,  is  a 
question  of  no  easy  solution,  Mr.  Davies  was  but  the  pioneer 
for  Presbyterianism  and  vital  piety  in  Virginia ;  and  his  mysteri- 
ous and  speedy  removal  to  another  sphere,  just  as  his  prospects 
in  Virginia  began  to  brighten,  has  to  many  appeared  of  very 
questionable  propriety." 

Mr.  Davies  continued  in  the  field  of  labor  in  Virginia,  until  he 
was  elected  to  the  Presidency  of  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  in 
the  year  1759.  He  was  chosen  to  succeed  President  Edwards. 
President  Burr  died  in  September,  1757 ;  President  Edw^ards  was 
elected  soon  after,  but  was  not  inducted  into  ofiice  until  Februa- 
ry, 1758,  and  died  in  the  March  following.  Mr.  Davies  was  in- 
augurated as  President  in  July,  1759,  and  continued  in  the  office 
until  his  death,  on  the  4th  of  February,  1761.  He  "  preached  his 
farewell  sermon  to  his  people,  June  1st,  1769.  The  effect  pro- 
duced upon  the  minds  of  his  people  can  neither  be  conceived  nor 
expressed.  Despondency  and  gloom  hung  over  the  whole  as- 
sembly, and  the  distress  and  surprise  with  many  were  too  great 
to  admit  of  the  relief  which  a  flood  of  tears  might  afford.  The 
consternation  was  nearly  as  great  with  the  Presbytery,  for  a  pa- 
ralyzing discouragement  seemed  to  have  possessed  all  in  Vir- 


XXXIV  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

ginia  who  were  concerned  in  this  matter  ;  after  which  everything 
of  a  religious  nature  seemed  to  decline.  Ichabod  seemed  to  be 
■written,  not  only  on  his  own  congregation,  but  on  the  entire 
Presbytery  ;  from  which  it  has  hardly  ever  recovered  since.  His 
congregation  in  Hanover  began  at  once  to  dwindle  away  by 
death,  but  more  frequently  by  removals  to  the  upper  counties, 
where  the  soil  and  climate  were  more  inviting.  Perhaps  God 
saw  it  was  necessary  ;  for  if  ever  a  people  were  guilty  of  man 
worship,  they  were ;  and  sorely  did  they  pay  for  it." — De.  Hill. 

It  is  as  a  preacher^  particularly,  that  it  is  proper  to  contem- 
plate him  in  an  "  Introduction  "  to  his  Sermons  :  and  all  that  is 
needful,  therefore,  to  say  of  his  character  as  the  President  of  a 
College,  is,  that  he  equalled  the  most  sanguine  expectations  of 
liis  friends ;  and  that,  at  his  death,  he  left  the  College  in  as  high 
a  state  of  literary  merit  as  it  had  ever  been  in  since  its  first  in- 
stitution. A  more  full  account  of  his  eiforts  to  benefit  the  Col- 
lege, and  of  his  success,  may  be  found  in  the  Appendix  to  Dr. 
Green's  "  Discourses,  delivered  in  the  College  of  New  Jersey,  ad- 
dressed chiefly  to  candidates  for  the  first  degree  in  the  arts." 
Pp.  350-355.  He  died  from  an  inflammatory  fever,  after  an  ill- 
ness of  tw^o  days,  which  was  supposed  to  have  been  caused 
mainly  by  his  having  been  unskilfully  bled.  His  death  was 
probably  hastened,  as  he  had  been  predisposed  to  disease,  by  his 
unremitting  application  to  study,  and  to  the  duties  of  his  office. 
His  previous  situation  had  afforded  little  leisure,  and  compara- 
tively few  means,  for  the  cultivation  of  general  science.  To 
qualify  himself  for  his  new  station,  therefore,  his  application  to 
study  became  intense  and  unremitted.  This  fact,  and  the  fact 
that  during  his  residence  in  Princeton,  he  had  almost  wholly 
neglected  the  exercise  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed  in  Vir- 
ginia, contributed  to  render  the  disease  incurable.  During  his 
brief  illness,  the  violence  of  the  disease  was  such  as  almost 
wholly  to  deprive  him  of  the  exercise  of  reason. 

"  His  faltering  tongue  was,  however,  continually  uttering  some 
expedient  to  promote  the  prosperity  of  the  Church  of  Clirist,  and 
the  good  of  mankind." 

His  remains  lie  in  the  churchyard  in  Princeton,  by  the  side  of 
Presidents  Burr,  Edwards,  Finley,  and  Witherspoon.  The  follow- 
ing inscription  Ib  recorded  on  the  stone  which  marks  his  grave : — 


OF    THE    AUTHOK,  XXXV 

Sub  hoc  mannore  sepulchrali 

Mortales  Exuvias 

Reverendi  perquam  viri, 

SAMUELIS  DA  VIES,  A.M. 

Collegii  Nov-CiBsarieusis  Proasidis, 

Fr.turum  Domini  Adventuiu  praestolaiitur. 

Ne  te,  viator,  ut  pauea  de  tanto 

Tamque  dilecto  vivo  resciscas, 

Panlisper  morari  pigeat. 

Natus  est  in  Comitatu  de  Newcastle,  juxta  Delaware, 

iii.  Novembris,  Anno  Salutis  reparatae, 

MDCCXXIV.  S.V. 

Sacris  ibidem  initiatus,  xix.  Februarii, 

MDCOXLVII. 

Tutelam  pastoralem  Ecclesiaa 

In  Comitatu  de  Hanover,  Virginiensium,  suscepit. 

Ibi  per  xi.  plus  minus  Annos, 

Ministri  evangelici  laboribus 

Indefesse,  et  favente  Numine,  auspicato  perfunctus. 

Ad  munus  Prassidiale  Collegii  Nov-Ceesariensis  gerendum 

Yocatus  est,  et  inauguratus,  xxvi.  Julii, 

MDCCLIX.  S.K 

Sed,  proh  Rerum  inane  !  intra  Biennium,  Febre  correptus, 

Candidam  aniraam  coelo  reddidit,  iv.  Februarii,  MDCCLXI 

Heu  quam  exiguum  Vitse  Curriculum  ! 

Corpore  fuit  eximio ;  Gestu  liberali,  placido,  augusto. 

In  genii  Nitore, 

Morum  Integritate,  Munificentia,  Facilitate, 

Inter  paucos  illustris. 

Rei  literariffi  poritus  ;  Theologus  promptus,  perspicax. 

In  Rostiis,  per  Eloquium  blandum,  mellitum, 

Vehemens  simul,  et  perstringens,  nulli  secundus. 

Scriptor  ornatus,  sublimis,  disertus. 

Praesertim  vero  Pietate, 

Ardente  in  Deum  Zelo  et  Religione  spectandus. 

In  tanti  viri,  majora  meriti, 

Memoriam  duraturam, 

Amici  hoc  qualecunque  monumentum, 

Honoris  ergo,  et  Gratitudinis,  posuere 

Abi,  viator,  ei  semulare. 


XXXVlll  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

lirious,  and  always  stupid.  But,  Avhcn  I  had  any  little  sense  of 
things,  I  generally  felt  pretty  calm  and  serene ;  and  death,  that 
mighty  terror,  was  disarmed.  Indeed,  the  thought  of  leaving 
my  dear  family  destitute,  and  my  flock  shepherdless,  made  me 
often  start  back  and  cling  to  life ;  but  in  other  respects  death 
appeared  a  kind  of  indifference  to  me.  Formerly  I  have  wished 
to  live  longer,  that  I  might  be  better  prepared  for  Heaven  ;  but 
this  consideration  had  but  very  little  weight  with  me,  and  that 
for  a  very  unusual  reason,  which  was  this :  After  long  trial,  I 
found  this  world  is  a  place  so  unfriendly  to  the  growth  of  every 
thing  Divine  and  Heavenly,  that  I  was  afraid,  if  I  should  live 
longer,  I  should  be  no  better  fitted  for  Heaven  than  I  am.  In- 
deed, I  have  hardly  any  hopes  of  ever  making  any  great  attain- 
ments in  holiness  while  in  this  world,  though  I  should  be  doom- 
ed to  stay  in  it  as  long  as  Methuselah.  I  see  other  Christians, 
indeed,  around  me,  make  some  progress,  though  they  go  on  with 
but  a  snail-like  motion ;  but  when  I  consider  that  I  set  out 
about  twelve  years  old,  and  what  sanguine  hopes  I  then  had  of 
my  future  progress,  and  yet  tl)at  I  have  been  almost  at  a  stand 
ever  since,  I  am  quite  discouraged.  O  my  good  master,  if  I  may 
dare  to  call  thee  so,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  serve  thee  much 
better  on  this  side  the  region  of  perfection.  The  thought  grieves 
me :  it  breaks  my  heart,  but  I  can  hardly  hope  better.  But  if  I 
have  the  least  spark  of  true  piety  in  my  breast,  I  shall  not  always 
labor  under  this  complaint.  No,  my  Lord,  I  shall  yet  serve 
thee — serve  thee  through  an  immortal  duration — with  the  activ- 
ity, the  fervor,  the  perfection  of  the  rapt  seraph  that  adores  and 
turns.  I  very  much  suspect  this  desponding  view  of  the  matter 
is  wrong ;  and  I  do  not  mention  it  with  approbation,  but  only 
relate  it  as  an  unusual  reason  for  my  willingness  to  die,  which  I 
never  felt  before,  and  which  I  could  not  suppress. 

"In  my  sickness,  I  found  the  unspeakable  importance  of  a 
Mediator  in  a  religion  for  sinners.  O !  I  could  have  given  you 
the  word  of  a  dying  man  for  it,  that  that  Jesus,  whom  you 
preach,  is  indeed  a  necessary,  and  an  all-sufficient  Savior.  In- 
deed, he  is  the  only  support  for  a  departing  soul.  None  but 
Christ — none  hut  Christ  !  Had  I  as  many  good  works  as 
Abraham  or  Paul^  I  would  not  have  dared  to  build  my  hopes 
upon  such  a  quicksand,  but  only  on  this  firm  eternal  rock. 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  XXXIX 

"  I  am  rising  up,  my  brother,  with  a  desire  to  recommend  him 
better  to  my  fellow-sinners  than  I  have  done.  But,  alas  !  I  hardly 
hope  to  accomplish  it.  lie  has  done  a  great  deal  more  by  ine 
already  than  I  ever  expected,  and  infinitely  more  than  I  deserved. 
But  he  never  intended  me  for  great  things.  lie  has  beings,  both 
of  my  own  and  of  superior  orders,  that  can  perform  him  more 
worthy  service.  O !  if  I  might  but  untie  the  latchet  of  his  shoes, 
or  draw  water  for  the  service  of  his  sanctuary,  it  is  enough  for 
me.     I  am  no  angel,  nor  would  I  murmur  because  I  am  not. 

"  My  strength  fails  me,  and  I  must  give  over.     Pray  for  me 
write  to  me.    Love  me,   living  and  dying,   on  earth  and  in 
heaven." 

2.  He  was  distinguished  for  an  imagination  singularly  rich  and 
sublime.  He  was  himself  a  poet,  and  the  characteristics  of  a 
poetic  genius  are  seen  in  rich  abundance  on  the  pages  of  his  ser- 
mons. His  language  is  elevated,  glowing,  and  warm  from  the 
lieart;  and  the  scenes  which  he  describes  are  placed  before  the 
mind  with  a  most  vivid  reality.  Occasionally,  indeed,  there  is  a 
luxuriancy  amounting  to  redundancy  in  the  images  which  he 
uses,  and  a  want  of  care  in  his  style,  which  he  probably  would 
himself  have  corrected,  had  he  lived  to  a  more  mature  age,  or 
had  he  lived  to  publish  his  sermons  himself.  Indeed,  there  are 
some  expressions  in  his  discourse  on  the  General  Judgment, 
which  now  would  be  regarded  as  bordering  on  the  ludicrous ; 
and  which  a  more  chastened  imagination,  or  a  severe  criticism, 
would  have  removed.  His  sermons,  moreover,  are  not  distin- 
guished for  minute  accuracy  of  language,  or  those  terse  periods 
which  many  later  compositions  of  the  same  kind  possess.  Occa- 
sionally, also,  we  meet  with  something  that  appears  loose,  tumid 
and  declamatory.  The  general  tenor  of  the  sentences,  however, 
is  harmonious ;  and  there  is  such  an  unction  of  piety  and  popu- 
larity of  manner ;  there  are  so  elevated  conceptions,  and  such  a 
variety  of  beautiful  images,  that  the  minor  imperfections  are  for- 
gotten, and  the  reader  is  borne  along  with  the  subject,  charmed 
by  the  happy  union  of  genius  and  piety  everywhere  apparent. 
When  delivered  by  a  man  of  the  noble  bearing,  the  fine  form, 
the  eloquent  gesticulation,  the  fervor  of  manner,  and  the  heart 
and  soul  of  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Davies,  it  is  easy  to  understand 


Xl  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

the  reason  why  he  had  so  commanding  an  influence  over  a 
popular  audience,  and  why  he  was  characterized  as  "  the  prince 
of  preachers." 

3.  He  was  distinguished  for  strong  and  vigorous  sense ;  for 
just  thinking,  powerful  reasoning,  and  pungent  addresses  to  the 
conscience  and  the  heart.  In  an  argument,  the  hearer  is  con- 
ducted from  point  to  point  hy  a  clear  chain  of  connected  reason- 
ing, and  every  position  is  sustained ;  and  in  direct  appeals  to 
men,  the  conscience  is  made  to  respond  to  the  claims  which  the 
preacher  urges.  Under  the  delivery  of  these  sermons,  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  a  well-educated  and  thinking  skeptic 
not  to  feel  that  their  was  much  in  Christianity  which  demanded 
his  attention,  or  for  any  man  not  to  feel  that  religion  had  claims 
on  the  conscience  and  the  heart  superior  to  all  other  claims. 

4.  President  Davies  was  a  man  who  regarded  ample  prepara- 
tion as  indispensable  for  the  successful  performance  of  the  duties 
of  the  ministry.  His  sermons  bear  the  marks  of  having  been 
prepared  with  great  care  ;  and  we  know  what  were  his  views 
on  that  subject.  He  possessed  uncommon  facility  for  making  at- 
tainments in  his  studies,  and  gained  knowledge  witii  an  ease 
with  which  few  are  favored ;  but  still,  the  consciousness  of  this 
never  deterred  him  from  intense  application,  and  fi-om  the  use  of 
all  the  means  in  his  power  for  enlarging  the  boundaries  of  his 
attainments.  He  is  known  to  have  declared,  that  "  every  dis- 
course of  his,  which  he  thought  worthy  of  tiie  name  of  a  sermon, 
cost  him  four  days'  hard  study  in  the  preparation."  It  was  owing 
to  this  toil,  as  well  as  to  the  extraordinary  talents  with  which 
he  had  been  endowed,  that  he  became,  perhaps,  the  most  elo- 
quent and  accomplished  pulpit  orator  that  this  country  has  pro- 
duced ;  that  he  was  more  successful  in  winning  souls  to  the  Re- 
deemer than  any  other  minister  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  if 
we  except,  perhaps,  Whitfield  and  Edwards  ;  and  that  his  ser- 
mons have  been  probably  more  popular  than  any  other  sermons 
which  have  ever  issued  from  the  American  press.  Before  the 
y^ar  1800,  nine  editions  had  been  published;  and  it  would  be 
difficult  to  estimate  the  number  that  liave  been  issued  in  Great 
Britain  and  in  this  country.     When  the  size  and  expense  of 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  xli 

the  work  is  considered,  and  when  it  is  remembered  that  his  ser- 
mons are  almost  wliolly  posthumous  in  their  publication,  such 
an  expression  of  the  public  favor  is  the  most  conclusive  proof  of 
their  value. 

5.  President  Davies  was  a  warm  and  ardent  friend  of  revivals 
of  religion.  The  age  in  which  he  lived  was  characterized  emi- 
nently by  such  works  of  grace,  and  his  heart  sympathized  with 
those  who  prayed  for  them,  and  who  were  blessed  with  them. 
lie  sympathized  with  the  Tennents,  and  with  Edwards  and  Bella- 
my, in  their  views  of  such  displays  of  the  divine  power,  and  nothing 
gave  him  more  joy  than  the  evidence  of  the  presence  of  the  Spirit 
of  God  attending  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  with  a  blessing. 
The  folloAving  extract  from  a  letter  to  a  friend  in  England  on 
this  subject,  lays  open  the  secrets  of  his  soul  in  reference  to  re- 
vivals of  religion. 

"  The  best  news  that  perhaps  I  ever  heard  in  my  life,  I  lately 
received  from  my  favorite  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Finley,  minister 
of  Nottingham,  in  Pennsylvania,  tutor  of  a  large  academy,  and 
one  of  the  trustees  of  the  college  of  New  Jersey.  I  had  sent  him 
some  extracts  from  my  British  letters,  giving  an  account  of  the 
revival  of  religion  in  sundry  parts  of  England,  particularly  among 
the  clergy  :  in  answer  to  which  he  writes  thus : 

"'April  16,  1757.  I  greatly  rejoice  that  our  Lord  Jesus  has 
put  it  in  my  power  to  make  you  a  large  compensation  for  the 
good  news  you  sent  me.  God  has  done  great  things  for  us.  Our 
glorious  Redeemer  poured  out  his  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  students 
of  our  college  ;  not  one  of  all  who  were  present  neglected— and 
they  were  in  number  sixty.  The  whole  house,  say  my  corre- 
spondents, was  a  Bochim.  Mr.  William  Tennent,  who  was  on 
the  spot,  says,  he  "never  saw  any  in  that  case  who  had  more 
clear  views  of  God,  themselves,  and  their  defects — their  impo- 
tence and  misery,  than  they  had  in  general :  that  there  never 
was,  he  believes,  in  any  house,  more  genuine  sorrow  for  sin,  and 
longing  after  Jesus :  that  this  glorious  work  was  gradual,  and 
spread  like  the  increasing  light  of  the  morning  :  that  it  was  not 
begun  by  the  ordinary  methods  of  preaching,  nor  promoted  by 
alarming  methods;  yet  so  great  was  their  distress,  that  he 
judged  it  improper  to  use  any  arguments  of  terror  in  public,  lest 


Xlii     •  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

some  should  sink  under  the  weight :  that  wliat  makes  the  gra- 
cious visitation  more  remarkable  was,  that  a  little  before,  some 
of  the  youth  had  given  a  greater  loose  to  their  corruptions  than 
was  ordinary  among  them;  a  spirit  of  pride  and  contention  pre- 
vailing, to  the  great  grief  and  even  discouragement  of  the  worthy 
President :  that  there  were  no  public  outcries,  but  a  decorous, 
silent  solemnity ;  that  before  he  came  away,  several  had  received 
something  like  the  spirit  of  adoption ;  being  tenderly  affected 
with  tho  sense  of  redeeming  love,  and  thereby  disposed  and  de- 
termined to  endeavor  after  universal  holiness." 

"  '  Mr.  Treat  and  Mr.  G,  Tennent  tell  me  in  theirs,  that  the 
concern  appeared  rational,  solid,  and  scriptural ;  and  that  in  a 
remarkable  degree.  I  was  informed  by  some  of  the  students 
who  had  been  my  pupils,  that  tliis  religious  concern  first  began 
with  the  son  of  a  very  considerable  gentleman  of  New  York. 
The  youth  was  dangerously  sick  at  college ;  and  on  that  occa- 
sion, awakened  to  a  sense  of  his  guilt.  His  discourse  made 
some  impression  on  a  few  others,  and  theirs  again  on  more ;  so 
that  it  became  almost  general,  before  the  good  President,  or  any 
others,  knew  anything  of  it.  As  soon  as  it  became  public,  mis- 
representations were  spread  abroad ;  and  some  gentleman  sent 
to  bring  their  sons  home.  But  upon  better  information,  the  most 
were  sent  back  again.  The  wicked  companions  of  some  young 
gentlemen,  left  no  methods  untried  to  recover  them  to  their  for- 
mer excess  of  riot ;  and  with  two  or  three  have  been  lamentably 
successful. 

"  '  Mr.  Duffield  (a  worthy  young  minister)  informed  me  the 
other  day,  that  a  very  hopeful  religious  concern  spread  through 
the  Jerseys,  especially  among  young  people.  In  several  letters 
from  Philadelphia,  from  Mr.  G.  Tennent  and  others.  I  have  an 
assurance  of  a  revival  there  for  which  good  people  are  blessing 
God.  Lawyer  Stockton  informs  me,  tiiat  he  is  certified  by  good 
authority,  of  a  gracious  work  of  God  at  Yale  College,  in  New 
Haven.' 

"  This,  sir,  is  some  of  the  best  news  from  one  of  the  best  of  my 
correspondents.  You  will  join  with  me  in  blessing  God,  and  con- 
gratulating posterity,  upon  tliis  happy,  surprising  revolution,  in  a 
college  to  wliich  the  eager  eyes  of  so  many  churches  look  for 
supplies.     Perhaps  it  may  afford  me  the  more  pleasure,  as  my 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  xlHi 

having  taken  so  much  pains  to  promote  that  institution,  gives 
me  a  kind  of  paternal  solicitude  for  it,  though  I  live  near  four 
hundred  miles  from  it. 

"The  finger  of  God  is  the  more  conspicuous  in  this  affair,  as 
the  students,  wlio  had  so  often  heard  such  excellent  sermons 
from  the  worthy  President,  and  from  the  many  ministers  from 
various  [)arts,  who  have  occasionally  officiated  there,  without  any 
general  good  efl'ects,  should  he  universally  awakened  by  means 
of  a  sick  boy.  Though  this  college  was  well  founded,  and  well 
conducted,  yet  I  must  own,  I  was  often  afraid  it  was  degener- 
ating into  a  college  of  mere  learning.  But  now  my  fears  are 
removed,  by  the  prospect  that  sincere  piety,  that  grand  ministe- 
rial qualification,  will  make  equal  advances." 

"6.  President  Davies  was  an  ardent  and  devoted  friend  of  his 
country.  He  lived  in  the  forming  period  of  our  history,  and  he 
exerted  his  great  influence  in  vindication  of  his  country's  rights. 
The  country  was  alarmed  and  agitated  to  the  higliest  degree  by 
(the  French  and  Indian  war,  wddle  he  was  a  pastor  in  Virginia. 
There  was  even  much  talk  of  abandoning  a  part  of  tlie  colony  of 
Virginia  to  the  enemy.  On  the  10th  of  July,  1755,  General 
Braddock  sustained  his  memorable  defeat,  and  tlie  remnant  of 
his  army  was  saved  by  the  courage  and  skill  of  Colonel  Washing- 
ton, then  only  twenty-three  years  old.  On  the  20th  of  this  month, 
Mr.  Davies  preached  a  sermon  ''  On  the  defeat  of  General  Brad- 
dock,  going  to  Fort  Du  Quesne."  In  this  sermon,  he  calls  on  all 
his  hearers,  in  the  most  impassioned  and  animating  strains,  to 
show  "  themselves  men,  Britons  and  Christaiiis,  and  to  make 
a  noble  stand  for  the  blessings  they  enjoyed."  It  was  feared  the 
negroes  would  rise  up  and  join  the  French.  His  influence  among 
the  blacks  was  greater,  perhaps,  than  that  of  any  other  man ; 
and  he  used  it  all  to  persuade  and  deter  them  from  joining  the 
enemy.  In  August,  of  the  same  year,  he  delivered  a  sermon  in 
Hanover,  to  Captain  Overton's  company  of  independent  volun- 
teers, under  the  title  of  "  Religion  and  patriotism  the  constitu- 
ents of  a  good  soldier."  It  was  in  a  note  to  liis  sermon,  that  he 
expressed  the  hope,  which  has  been  so  often  since  noticed  in  re- 
gard to  Washington.  "  As  a  remarkable  instance  of  this  [of  the 
fact  that  God  had  '  diffused  some  sparks  of  martial  fire  through 


xliv 


LIFE    AND    TIMES 


the  country'],  I  may  point  out,"  said  he,  "  to  the  public  that  he- 
roic youth,  Colonel  Washington,  whom  I  cannot  but  hope  Provi- 
dence has  hitherto  preserved,  in  so  signal  a  msmner,  for  some  im- 
portant service  to  Ms  countryy 

"  The  celebrated  Patrick  Henry,"  says  Dr.  Green,  "  is  known 
to  have  spoken  in  terms  of  enthusiasm  of  Mr.  Davies.  And  as 
that  great  statesman  and  powerful  orator  lived  from  his  eleventh 
to  his  twenty-second  year,  in  the  neighborhood  where  his  patri- 
otic sermons  were  delivered,  and  wdiich  produced  effects  as  pow- 
erful as  those  ascribed  to  Demosthenes  himself,  it  has  been  sup- 
posed, with  much  probability,  that  it  was  Mr.  Davies  who  first 
kindled  the  fire,  and  afforded  the  model  of  Henry's  elocution." 

As  a  preacher,  President  Davies  was  eminently  fitted  to  the 
times  in  which  he  lived.  He  w^as  one  of  the  great  men  whom 
God  raised  up  at  that  time  to  impress  their  features  on  the  age, 
and  to  mould  the  opinions  of  their  countrymen.  He  was  such  a 
preacher  as  the  times  then  demanded,  and  such  a  preacher,  in 
the  great  features  of  his  ministry,  as  this  age  also  demands ;  and 
had  lie  lived  no%v,  he  w^ould  have  fallen  in  with,  or  rather  would 
have  been  a  leader  in  all  that  is  good  that  characterizes  this 
generation.  It  is  not  presumption,  nor  should  it  pass  for  mere 
conjecture,  to  say,  that  with  the  advantages  which  we  now  en- 
joy, he  would  have  been  an  eminently  close  student  of  the  Bible; 
a  friend  of  the  great  enterprises  of  Christian  benevolence ;  an 
advocate  of  temperance  and  of  revivals;  an  enemy  of  wild  and 
visionary  view^s,  of  strife,  and  bigotry  and  schism ;  as  a  man  of 
charity  jmd  liberality  of  sentiment ;  a  preacher  disposed  to  unite 
with  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus,  in  efforts  to  do  good ;  and  a 
friend  of  Christian  liberty  and  peace. 

On  occasion,  therefore,  of  issuing  these  sermons  again  from 
the  press,  and  of  bringing  before  the  public  mind  and  heart  the 
name  of  an  American  so  distinguished  as  he  was,  I  have  thought 
it  would  not  be  inappropriate  to  suggest  some  thoughts  in  con- 
nection with  this  publication,  on  the  hind  of  preaching  that  this 
age  demands^  or  the  Tcind  of  ministry  fitted  to  the  times  in  which 
we  live.  The  importance  of  this  subject,  with  reference  to  the 
w-elfare  of  our  country,  and  the  interest  Avhich  is  everywhere  felt 
in  it,  v/ill  furnish,  it  is  hoijed,  an  apology  for  such  suggestions. 
The  subject  itself  is  such,  that  no  one  can  over-estimate  its  im- 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  xlv 

portance;  and  he  who  contributes  any  thoughts  that  may  be  of 
even  inconsiderable  value  in  themselves,  is  doing  something  to 
serve  liis  generation.  Believing  that  the  edition  of  the  sermons 
of  Davies  now  issued  will  have  an  extensive  circulation,  it  is  not 
denied  that  the  hope  is  cherished,  in  making  these  suggestions, 
to  reach  some  minds  that  could  not  otherwise  be  accessible,  and 
to  do  something  to  elevate  the  prevailing  views  of  tlie  sacrednesa 
and  the  importance  of  the  office  of  the  Christian  ministry.  The 
suggestions  are  submitted  with  deference,  particularly  to  those 
who  are  candidates  for  this  high  office,  and  who  are  inquiring 
with  solicitude  what  shall  be  the  great  object  of  their  aim  in  the 
work  to  which  they  have  devoted  their  lives. 

It  has  been  comparatively  rare,  in  this  world,  that  any  indi- 
vidual has  embarked  on  life,  or  on  any  enterprise,  with  a  deter- 
mined purpose  to  see  how  much  could  be  done  by  the  utmost 
efforts  of  which  the  mind  and  the  body  could  be  made  capable. 
Occasionally  such  an  individual  has  appeared;  and  appeared 
to  astonish  us  no  less  by  the  vastness  and  the  success  of  his  own 
efforts,  than  by  the  proof  Avhich  he  has  thus  furnished  of  the  im- 
becility, and  indolence,  and  wasted  talents  of  that  great  mass  of 
mankind.  Such  a  man  was  Howard — living  to  make  "full 
proof"  of  how  much  could  be  done  in  a  single  object  of  benevo- 
lence. "The  energy  of  his  determination,"  it  has  been  said, 
"  was  the  calmness  of  an  intensity  kept  uniform  by  the  nature 
of  the  human  mind  forbidding  it  to  be  more,  and  by  the  character 
of  the  individual  forbidding  it  to  be  less.  The  habitual  passion 
of  his  mind  was  a  measure  of  feeling  almost  equal  to  the  tempo- 
rary extremes  and  paroxysms  of  common  minds;  as  a  great 
river,  in  its  customary  state,  is  equal  to  a  small  or  moderate  one 
when  swollen  to  a  torrent."*  Such  a  man,  in  a  far  different  de- 
partment was  Napoleon;  living  to  illustrate  the  power  of  great 
talents  concentrated  on  a  single  object,  and  making  "  full  proof" 
of  the  terrible  energy  of  the  single  passion  of  ambition.  Such  a 
man,  too,  was  the  short-lived  Alexander;  and,  in  a  different 
sphere,  such  a  man  was  Paul ;  and,  to  a  considerable  extent, 
such  a  man  was  Whitfield.     But,  compared  with  the  immense 

*  Foster's  Essay  on  "Decision  of  Character." 


Xlvi  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

multitude  of  minds  which  have  existed  on  the  earth,  sucli  in- 
stances, for  good  or  evil,  have  been  rare.  A  part  has  been 
sunk  in  indolence  from  which  no  motives  would  rouse  thein. 
Part  have  been  wholly  unconscious  of  their  own  powers.  Part 
have  never  been  placed  in  circumstances  to  call  forth  their  en- 
ergies, or  have  not  been  endowed  with  original  power  to  create 
such  circumstances,  or  to  start  a  plan  that  should  require  such 
concentrated  efforts  to  complete  it.  Part  have  never  been  under 
the  right  influence,  in  the  process  of  training,  to  make  "full 
proof  "  of  the  powers  of  the  soul ;  part  have  wasted  their  talents 
in  wild  and  visionary  schemes,  unconscious  of  the  waste,  or  of 
the  main  error  of  their  life,  till  life  Avas  too  far  gone  to  attempt  to 
repair  the  loss  ; — some  are  thwarted  by  a  rival ;  some  meet  with 
discouragements,  are  early  disheartened,  and  give  up  all  effort 
in  despair.  Most  reach  the  close  of  life,  feeling,  if  they  have 
any  right  feeling,  that  they  have  accomplished  almost  nothing — 
the  good  usually  with  the  reflection,  that  if  they  ever  accomplish 
much,  it  must  now  be  in  a  higher  state  of  being.  Even  Grotius, 
one  of  the  most  laborious  and  useful  of  men,  is  said  to  have  ex- 
claimed near  the  close  of  his  life,  "  Proh  vitam  perdidi,  operos^ 
nihil  agendo.'" 

What  I  have  remarked  of  individual  powers,  is  true  also  of 
associated  intellects,  and  of  institutions  designed  to  act  on  man- 
kind. Full  proof  has  never  yet  been  made  of  the  power  of  th-e 
church  to  sanctify  and  save  the  world  ;  of  the  Bible  to  elevate 
the  human  intellect,  to  purify  the  heart,  and  to  change  the  social 
habits,  laws,  and  morals  of  mankind ;  of  the  Sabbath  to  arrest 
the  bad  influences  that  set  in  upon  man  from  the  world,  and  to 
promote  order,  happiness,  and  salvation ;  and  of  the  ministry  to 
save  souls  from  death.  There  has  been  a  vast  amount  of  un- 
developed power  in  all  these  to  affect  mankind ;  and  the  past 
furnishes  us  in  some  bright  periods  with  glimpses  of  what  is  yet 
to  be  the  living  reahty,  but  the  full  proof  remains  to  benefit  and 
to  bless  some  future  age. 

The  qualifications  for  the  Christian  ministry,  in  all  ages,  and 
in  all  places,  are  essentially  the  same.  The  same  great  doc- 
trines are  to  be  preached  ;  the  same  plan  of  salvation  to  be  ex- 
plained and  defended ;  the  same  duties  toward  God,  and  toward 
man,  in  the  various  relations  of  life,  to  be  inculcated.     The  hu- 


OF    THE    AUTHOK.  xlvil 

injin  lieart  is,  in  all  ages,  and  climes,  and  nations,  essentially  tlie 
SMine ;  and  men  are  everywhere  to  be  saved  in  the  same  way. 
Man,  ''  no  matter  whether  an  Indian,  an  African,"  an  European 
or  an  American  sun  has  shown  upon  him,  is  a  siunt-r.  lie  comes 
into  existence  a  fallen  being.  He  enters  on  his  immortal  career 
ruined  by  the  apostasy  of  the  progenitor  of  the  race.  lie  com- 
mences life,  certain  that  he  will  begin  to  sin  as  soon  as  lie  begins 
to  act ;  and  will  sin  on  forever  in  this  world  and  the  next,  unless 
ho  is  redeemed  by  atoning  blood,  and  renewed  and  sanclified  by 
the  Spirit  of  God.  For  him  there  is  no  salvation  but  in  the  sac- 
rifice of  the  Sou  of  God  in  human  nature — a  vicarious  otforing 
for  the  sins  af  men.  In  that  great  Savior  there  is  hope  ;  in  him 
there  is  full  redemption ;  and  by  his  merits  only  can  a  sinner  be 
justified  and  stand  before  God. 

Each  successive  generation  is  to  be  met  with  this  gospel ;  and 
on  each  individual  the  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  to  be 
sought,  that  his  heart  may  be  renewed,  and  his  soul  saved.  The 
great  system  teaching  the  fall  and  ruin  of  man  ;  the  doctrine  of 
the  threefold  existence  of  the  divine  nature  ;  the  incarnation  and 
the  atonement  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  the  necessity  of  regeneration 
by  the  holy  Spirit ;  the  necessity  of  holy  living ;  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead,  and  of  eternal  judgment,  is  to  be  proclaimed  from 
age  to  age,  and  from  land  to  land. 

The  first  essential  qualification  for  this  work,  everywdiere  and 
always,  is  riEXY.  The  minister  should  be  a  converted  man.  He 
should  not  merely  be  a  moral  man,  or  an  amiable  man,  or  a  gift- 
ed man,  or  a  learned  man,  or  a  serious-minded  man,  or  a  man 
desirous  of  being  converted ;  he  should  be  a  regenerated  man. 
He  should  have  such  evidence  on  that  point  as  not  to  have  his 
own  mind  embarrassed  and  perplexed  on  it ;  such  as  never  to 
leave  a  doubt  amounting  to  ''  a  shadow  of  a  shade  "  on  the  mind 
of  others.  He  should  have  confidence  in  God.  He  should  have 
no  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the  system  which  he  defends ;  he  should 
have  no  doubt  that  God  intends  to  bless  that  system  of  truth 
which  he  preaches  to  save  the  world.  At  all  times;  in  all 
lands;  in  every  variety  of  the  fluctuating  customs  and  laws 
among  mankind,  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  should  be  "  wise  as 
serpents,  and  harmless  as  doves ;"  they  should*  be  "  blameless, 
vigilant,  sober,  of  good  behavior" — or  modest  (marg.) — Koa/niov—^ 


xlviii 


LIFE    AND    TIMES 


"  given  to  hospitality,  apt  to  teach,  not  given  to  Avine — //^  Trdpoivog 
— (marg.  '  not  ready  to  quarrel,  and  offer  wrong  as  one  in  wine ' 
— '  not  sitting  long  hy  Avine,'  EoMnson) ;  no  striker,  not  greedy 
of  filthy  lucre,  not  a  brawler,  not  covetous ;  he  should  not  be  a 
novice — (marg.  '  one  newly  come  to  the  faith' — vlo^vtov)  ;  and 
he  must  have  a  good  report  of  them  which  are  without.  In  all 
ages  and  places,  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  are  to  preach  the 
word  ;  they  are  to  be  instant  in  season,  out  of  season ;  they  are 
to  give  attendance  to  reading,  to  exhortation,  to  doctrine — 
(didaaKaXl^^  teaching) ;  they  are  to  reprove,  rebuke,  exhort,  with 
all  long-suffering ;  they  are  to  be  lovers  of  good  men,  sober,  just, 
holy,  temperate ;  they  are  to  follow  after  righteousness,  godli- 
ness, faith,  love,  patience,  meekness ;  they  are  to  fight  the  good 
fight  of  faith,  and  to  lay  hold  on  eternal  life ;  they  are  to  watch 
in  all  things,  endure  aflflictions,  do  the  work  of  evangelists,  make 
full  proof  of  their  ministry." 

Never  were  the  general  qualifications  of  the  ministry  better 
drawn  by  an  uninspired  pen  than  in  the  well-known  words  of 
Cowper : 

"  Would  I  describe  a  preacher,  such  as  Paul, 
Were  he  on  earth,  would  hear,  approve,  and  own, 
Paul  should  himself  direct  me.     I  would  trace 
His  master-strokes,  and  draw  from  his  design  ; 
I  would  express  him  simple,  grave,  sincere ; 
In  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner,  decent,  solemn,  chaste 
And  natural  in  gestui-e ;   much  impressed 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge. 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too  ;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men."  Task,  B.  ii. 

But  while  it  is  true  that  the  qualifications  for  the  Christian 
ministry  are  always  essentially  the  same,  it  is  also  true  that  dif- 
ferent contries,  ages,  and  fields  of  labor  require  peculiar  endow- 
ments in  those  who  minister  at  the  altar.  Some  great  duty  or 
class  of  duties  in  one  age  or  country  shall  demand  peculiarly  to 
be  inculcated ;  some  gigantic  form  of  wickedness  is  to  be  met 
and  overthrown  ;  some  far-spreading  and  subtle  error  is  to  be  de- 


OF    THE    AUTHOK.  xUx 

tected  and  removed ;  some  great  enterprise  for  the  welfare  of 
man  is  to  be  originated,  vindicated,  and  sustained  ;  or  some  pro- 
pensity of  the  age  or  country  shall  need  to  be  counteracted  and 
opposed  by  all  the  power  and  talent  of  the  Christian  ministry. 
In  the  times  of  the  apostles,  great  energy  of  character  was  de- 
manded ;  great  sell-denial  and  readiness  to  meet  privation  and 
danger ;  and  great  wisdom  in  standing  up  to  oppose  the  systems 
of  philosophy  which  had  so  long  reigned  over  the  human  mind. 
A  spirit  of  noble  enterprise  and  bold  daring  was  demanded,  to 
cross  seas  and  lands ;  to  encounter  perils  and  storms  ;  to  be  ready 
to  stand  on  trial  before  kings,  and  to  meet  death  in  any  form,  in 
such  a  way  as  to  do  honor  to  religion.  The  prevailing  systems 
of  religion  were  sustained  by  all  the  wisdom  of  philosophy,  and 
by  all  the  power  of  the  civil  arm  ;  and  the  very  boldness  of  the 
new  preachers,  their  zeal  and  disinterestedness,  and  conscious- 
ness of  having  the  truth,  was  to  strike  dismay  into  the  friends  of 
idolatry,  and  under  God  to  change  the  religion  of  the  world. 
Such  men  were  found  in  Paul  and  his  fellow-laborers  ;  men  great 
in  all  the  essential  quahfications  of  the  sacred  ofSce,  and  men 
peculiarly  adapted  to  the  times  in  which  they  lived.  In  subse- 
quent times,  to  be  a  Christian  was  to  be  a  martyr ;  to  be  a  min- 
ister of  religion  was  to  be  in  the  front  ranks  of  those  who  consti- 
tuted the  great  procession  that  was  led  to  the  rack  or  the  stake ; 
and  the  times  demanded  men  of  steady  firmness  of  purpose  and 
of  unwavering  confidence  in  God ;  men  who  could  cheer  their 
fellow-sufferers,  and  teach  them  how  to  die,  as  well  as  how  to 
live ;  and  such  men  in  early  times  were  found  in  Ignatius  and 
Polycarp ;  in  later  times  in  Ridley  and  Latimer. 

Again,  subtle  and  profound  systems  of  philosophy  came  into 
the  church,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  faith  began  to  be  corrupt- 
ed ;  and  then  was  demanded  the  aid  of  men  who  could  follow 
out  the  mazes  of  sophistry,  and  expose  skilful  error ;  and  such 
men  were  found  as  Athanasius  and  Augustine  ;  in  later  times 
such  men  as  Horsly  and  Edwards.  Times  like  the  Reformation, 
also,  demanded  a  peculiar  order  of  ministers.  All  the  other 
qualifications  of  almost  every  other  age  seemed  to  be  required  in 
combination.  A  spirit  bold  and  firm  to  meet  power  and  rebuke 
sin  in  the  high  places  of  ecclesiastical  office,  as  well  as  on 
thrones ;  a  readiness  to  meet  martyrdom,  and  a  patience  in  suf- 


1  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

feriug  such  as  was  demanded  in  the  days  of  Polycarp  and  Igna- 
tius ;  the  power  of  detecting  and  exposing  subtle  error  in  the 
most  skilfully  constructed  system  of  error  that  has  ever  obtained 
an  ascendency  over  the  human  mind ;  requiring  far  more  ability 
than  was  requisite  to  meet  the  subtilty  of  the  ancient  philosophy ; 
and  God  raised  up  such  men.  The  ministry  furnished  such  men 
as  Luther,  and  Calvin,  and  Knox,  and  Cranmer ;  and  never  were 
the  demands  of  an  interesting  age  of  the  world  better  met  than 
by  the  labors  of  those  men.  They  were  made  what  they  were 
in  part  by  the  times  in  which  they  lived  ;  but  they  would  have 
been  adapted  to  any  age,  and  would  have  left  the  impress  of 
their  great  minds  upon  it.  The  idea  which  I  have  endeavored 
thus  far  to  illustrate  is,  that  the  qualifications  for  the  ministry, 
at  all  times,  and  in  all  lands,  are  essentially  the  same :  a  pious 
heart,  a  prudent  mind,  a  sober  judgment,  well-directed  and 
glowing  zeal,  self-denial,  simplicity  of  aim,  and  deadness  to  the 
world  ;  but  that  these  qualifications  are  to  be  somewhat  modi- 
fi.ed  by  the  peculiarities  of  each  age ;  and  that  the  age  in  which 
men  live  must  be  studied  in  order  that  they  may  make  ''  full 
proof  of  their  ministry-." 

I  proceed  now  to  what  I  intend  as  the  main  design  of  this  part 
of  this  essay,  to  inquire  what  are  the  qualifications  for  the  minis- 
try which  are  peculiarly  demanded  by  our  times  and  country. 
What  should  be  the  grand  aim  of  the  ministry  ?  For  what  should 
the  ministers  of  the  gospel  be  peculiarly  distinguished  ?  It  may 
be  impossible  to  consider  these  questions  without  trenching 
somewhat  on  what  I  have  mentioned  as  the  essential  qualifica- 
tions of  the  ministry  at  all  times,  but  my  main  object  will  not  be 
interfered  with. 

1.  The  times  in  which  we  live  demand  of  the  ministry  a  close, 
and  patient,  and  honest  investigation  of  the  Bible.  The  geupval 
reasons  for  this  are  too  obvious  to  detain  us.  Tiie  truths  wl'ich 
the  ministry  is  to  present  are  to  be  derived  from  the  word  of  God. 
They  are  not  the  truths  of  mental  philosophy  ;  they  are  not  the 
theories  formed  by  a  fertile  imagination ;  they  are  not  the  opin- 
ions held  by  men ;  they  are  not  systems  embodied  merely  in 
creeds  and  symbols,  they  are  the  ever-fresh  and  ever-living  truths 
of  the  Bible.     It  is  almost  too  obvious  to  need  remark,  that  the 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


li 


man  who  goes  forth  to  proclaim  the  gospel,  should  bo  able,  at 
least,  to  read  it  in  the  language  in  which  it  was  originally  pen- 
ned. Why  should  a  man  attempt  to  expound  a  message  which 
he  can  neither  read  nor  understand  as  it  came  from  the  band  of 
him  who  commissioned  him  ?  Can  there  be  a  more  evident  un- 
fitness for  his  work  than  to  be  ignorant  of  the  very  document 
which  it  is  the  main  business  of  his  life  to  explain  to  others?  It 
is  almost  too  absurd  for  grave  remark,  to  speak  of  an  ambassador 
who  cannot,  except  by  an  interpreter,  read  his  own  credentials; 
of  a  laAvyer  who  cannot  read  the  laws  which  he  expounds ;  of  a 
teacher  who  cannot  read  even  the  books  which  he  professes  to 
teach. 

And  yet  it  is  as  true  as  it  is  melancholy,  that  the  business  of 
studying  the  Bible,  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  w^ord  study^  is  a 
business  to  w^hich  even  in  the  ministry  there  is  often  a  sad  reluc- 
tance. I  speak  now  of  the  fair  and  honest  study  of  the  Scriptures 
in  the  language  in  which  they  were  originally  written,  and  in  the 
use  of  all  the  helps  wiiich  the  God  of  Providence  and  grace  has 
now  given  to  illustrate  this  most  wonderful  ancient  book  which 
the  ministry  is  called  to  explain  and  defend.  Who  knows  not 
how  reluctantly  this  is  approached  even  in  the  seminaries  of 
Christian  theology  ?  Who  knows  not  how  it  is  often  laid  aside 
as  soon  as  the  departing  evangelist  has  bid  adieu  to  the  place  of 
his  theological  training  ?  And  who  knows  not  that  the  whole 
arrangement  of  the  "study  "  afterwards  contemplates  the  removal 
of  all  books  written  in  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  tongue  to  the  most 
remote  and  unfrequented  department  of  the  Library  ?  And  who 
is  ignorant  of  the  fact,  that  to  multitudes  of  ministers  in  this  land, 
with  all  the  advantages  which  they  have  had,  the  original  lan- 
guages of  the  Scriptures  are  unapproached  and  inapproachable 
treasures — gold  and  diamonds  hidden  from  their  view,  or  rich  ore 
which  they  are  incapable  of  turning  up  to  find  the  truth.  The 
study  of  the  original  languages  of  the  Scriptures  in  our  semina- 
ries is  often  like  the  study  of  music  in  the  schools  of  female  edu- 
cation. Many  a  weary  hour  is  spent  upon  it ;  many  a  difficulty 
met  and  surmounted ;  and  when  the  sober  business  of  life  is  en- 
tered on,  music  is  laid  aside  as  useless,  or  its  memory  is  revived 
only  to  amuse  an  idle  hour,  or  to  please  the  transient  guest. 
Happy  would  it  be  if  the  ministers  of  religion  would,  even  for 


lii  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

amusement,  recall  the  study  of  the  languages  in  Avhich  holy  men 
spoke  and  wrote.  But  a  higher  motive  assuredly  should  lead 
them  to  it — the  high  motive  of  being  able  to  understand  the  book 
to  an  explanation  of  which  they  have  devoted  their  lives. 

The  age  in  which  we  live  is  not,  as  it  seems  to  me,  distinguish- 
ed for  simple  and  direct  appeals  to  the  Bible,  in  defence  of  the 
doctrines  of  religion.  Extensively  it  is  an  age  in  which  the  ap- 
peal is  made  to  the  opinions  of  the  fathers  ;  to  the  authority  of 
creeds  and  symbols  of  faith ;  to  the  opinions  of  other  times  ;  an 
age  in  which  to  depart  from  those  symbols  and  opinions,  or  to 
doubt  their  infallibility,  is  regarded  with  suspicion,  and  when 
such  a  departure  in  the  slightest  degree  turns  many  an  eye  with 
deep  vigilance  on  the  first  steps  of  the  wanderer.  By  many  it  is 
held,  or  rather  felt,  that  the  system  of  religious  doctrine  has  been 
settled  by  the  investigations  of  the  past ;  that  there  is  no  hope  of 
discovering  any  new  truth  ;  that  theology,  as  now  held,  is  not 
susceptible  of  improvement ;  that  the  whole  field  has  been  dug 
over  again  and  again  witli  instruments  as  finished  as  our  own, 
and  by  as  keen-sighted  laborers  as  any  of  the  present  age  can  be  ; 
and  that  it  is  presumption  for  a  man  to  hope  to  find  in  those  mines 
a  new  gem  that  would  sparkle  in  the  crown  of  truth. 

No  good  or  grateful  man  will  undervalue  the  wisdom  of  the 
past.  He  will  be  thankful  for  all  the  toil  of  the  hands,  the  head 
and  the  heart,  by  Avhicli  we  are  placed  in  our  present  advanced 
position  over  other  times.  In  religion,  as  well  as  in  everything 
else,  we  are  acting  on  the  results,  and  deriving  the  full  benefit  of 
the  experience  of  the  past.  We  reap  the  fruits  of  all  the  self-de- 
nials and  sacrifices ;  the  profound  studies,  the  travels,  the  skilful 
inventions,  and  the  sufferings  of  past  times.  Every  happy  dis- 
cover}^, every  ing»."nious  invention,  every  hour  of  patient  study, 
every  improvement  in  past  times,  has  gone  into  the  amelioration 
of  tlie  human  condition,  and  has  contributed  its  part  to  the  civili- 
zation and  refinement  of  the  age  in  which  we  live.  There  has 
not  been  a  philosopher  who  has  not  thought  for  us  ;  not  a  traveller 
who  has  not  travelled  for  us;  not  a  defender  of  liberty  who  has 
not  fought  for  us ;  not  an  advocate  of  violated  riglits  who  has  not 
pleaded  for  us ;  not  a  skilful  student  in  medicine  who  has  not  con- 
tributed somethingto  make  our  condition  more  happy ;  not  a  mar- 
tvr  Avho  has  not  suifered  to  establish  the  religion  whose  smiles 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


M 


and  sunshine  we  now  enjoy,  and  not  a  profound  thinker  in  theo- 
logy who  has  not  done  something  to  chase  away  error,  and  to 
disclose  the  truth,  that  we  may  sec  it  and  be  made  better  for  it. 
"  Other  men  have  labored,  and  we  have  entered  into  their  labors. 
"We  begin  where  they  left  off;  we  start  on  life  under  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  and  piety  of  past  times; 
and  we  should  not  undervalue  or  despise  it. 

But  is  the  field  fully  explored  ?  Is  there  nothing  yet  to  be 
learned  from  the  bible  ?  Is  there  no  encouragement  for  us  to 
study  the  word  of  God  ?  Are  we  to  receive  the  systems  mad© 
ready  to  our  hands,  and  to  suppose  that  there  may  be  no  rich 
vein  in  this  bed,  that  has  not  yet  been  fully  explored  ?  Even 
were  it  so,  it  would  be  better  for  the  minister  of  religion  to  go  to 
the  Bible  and  get  his  views  of  truth  there,  than  from  any  mortal 
lips,  or  from  any  human  system  of  theology.  There  all  is  still 
fresh,  and  vigorous,  and  instinct  with  life.  The  word  of  God  is 
a  fountain  ever  fresh  and  health-giving ;  and  the  streams  that 
issue  thence  create  a  rich  verdure  where  they  flow.  They  are 
like  the  rivers  that  flow  along  in  the  deserts  in  the  East.  There 
the  course  of  a  stream  can  be  traced  afar  by  the  trees,  and  shrubs, 
and  flowers,  and  grass  that  spring  up  on  its  bank,  and  that  are 
sustained  by  it  in  its  course— a  long  waving  line  of  green  in  the 
waste  of  sands.  Where  it  winds  along,  that  line  of  verdure 
winds  along;  where  it  expands  into  a  lake  that  expands  ;  where 
it  dies  away  or  is  lost  in  the  sand,  that  disappears.  So  it  is  with 
views  of  truth  that  are  derived  from  the  word  of  God,  Their 
course  can  be  traced  along  in  a  world  not  unlike  pathless  sands, 
as  the  course  of  the  river  can  be  traced  in  the  desert.  The  Bible 
is  the  true  fountain  of  waters  in  this  world ;  and  as  Ave  wander 
away  from  that,  in  our  investigations  and  our  preaching,  we  wan- 
der amid  pathless  sands. 

But  can  there  be  any  improvement  in  theology?  Can  there 
be  any  advance  made  on  the  discoveries  of  other  times  ?  Is  it  not 
presumptuous  for  us  to  hope  to  see  what  the  keen-sighted  vision 
of  other  times  has  not  seen  ?  Is  not  the  system  of  theology  per- 
fect as  it  came  from  God?  I  answer,  yes.  And  so  was  astrono- 
my a  perfect  system  when  the  "  morning  stars  sang  together;" 
but  it  is  one  thing  for  the  system  to  be  perfect  as  it  came  from 
God,  and  another  for  it  to  be  perfect  as  it  appears  in  the  form  in 


liv  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

which  wc  hold  it.  So  were  the  sciences  of  botany,  and  chemis- 
try', and  anatomy  perfect  as  they  came  from  God  ;  but  ages  have 
been  required  to  understand  them  as  they  existed  in  His  mind  ; 
and  otlier  ages  may  yet  furnisli  the  means  of  improvement  on 
those  systems  as  held  by  man.  So  God  has  placed  tlie  gold  under 
ground,  and  the  pearls  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea  for  man — perfect 
in  their  nature  as  they  came  from  his  band.  Has  all  the  gold 
been  dug  from  the  mines?  Have  all  the  pearls  been  tished  from 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean  ?  The  whole  system  of  sciences  was  as 
perfect  in  the  mind  of  God  as  the  system  of  revealed  truth  ;  yet 
all  are  given  to  man  to  be  sought  out ;  to  be  elaborated  by  the 
process  of  ages;  to  reward  human  diligence,  and  to  make  man  a 
"  co-worker  with  God."  "  Truth  is  the  daughter  of  time  ;"  and 
is  it  to  be  assumed  that  all  the  truth  is  not  known  ?  That  there 
is  no  error  in  the  views  with  which  we  now  hold  it  ?  That  all 
is  known  of  the  power  of  truth  yet  on  the  human  soul? 

I  am  now  speaking  of  the  ministry,  and  not  of  theology  in  gen- 
eral ;  and  I  am  urging  to  the  study  of  the  Bible  with  a  view  to  a 
more  successful  preaching  of  the  gospel.  It  seems  to  me  that  as 
yet  we  know  comparatively  little  of  the  power  of  preaching  the 
truths  of  the  Bible.  That  man  has  gained  much  as  a  preacher 
who  is  willing  to  investigate,  by  honest  rules,  the  meaning  of  the 
Bible,  and  then  to  suffer  the  truth  of  God  to  speak  out— no  mat- 
ter where  it  leans,  and  no  matter  on  what  man,  or  customs,  or 
systems  it  impinges.  Let  it  take  its  course  like  an  unobstructed 
stream,  or  like  abeam  of  light  direct  from  the  sun  to  the  eyes  of 
men.  But  when  we  seek  to  make  embankments  for  the  stream, 
to  confine  it  within  channels,  such  as  we  choose,  how  much  of 
its  beauty  is  lost,  and  how  often  do  we  obstruct  it !  When  we 
interpose  media  between  us  and  the  pure  light  of  the  sun  that  we 
deem  ever  so  clear,  how  often  do  we  turn  aside  the  rays  or  divide 
the  beam  into  scattered  rays  that  may  make  a  pretty  picture,  but 
which  prevent  the  full  glory  of  the  unobstructed  sun  !  There  is 
a  power  yet  to  be  seen  in  preaching  the  Bible  which  the  world 
has  not  fully  understood ;  and  he  does  an  incalculable  service  to 
his  own  times  and  to  the  world,  who  derives  the  truths  which 
he  inculcates  directly  from  the  Book  of  life.  Besides,  the  Bible 
is  receiving  constant  illustrations  and  confirmations  from  every 
science,  and  from  every  traveler  into  the  oriental  world.     Not  a 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  bf 

man  comes  back  to  us  from  the  east  who  does  not  give  us  some 
new  ilhistration  of  the  truth  or  the  beauty  of  the  Bible.  He  who 
wanders  among  the  ruins  of  Babylon;  he  who  visits  the  mount 
of  Olives  or  Lebanon;  he  who  gazes  upon  the  remains  of  tem- 
ples, and  palaces,  and  upon  the  dwelling-places  of  the  dead  ;  he 
who  tells  us  of  desolate  Petra  or  the  barren-rock  of  Tyre;  he  who 
describes  to  us  the  Bedouin,  or  tells  us  how  tliey  briild  a  hou.-seor 
pitch  a  tent  in  the  east,  is  doing  something  to  iuak(3  us  better  ac- 
quainted with  the  Bible.  A  few  years  past  have  opened  here  a 
vast  field  of  interesting  research,  and  that  research  has  turned 
the  attention  of  the  world  to  the  full  confirmation  of  the  Scrip- 
ture prophecies ;  and  for  a  theologian  there  is  now  no  field  of  in- 
vestigation more  rich  and  promising  than  this ;  and  how  can  a 
man,  whose  business  it  is  to  explain  the  oracles  of  God,  be  igno- 
rant of  it?  But  where  should  I  stop  in  the  illustration  of  this 
point?  The  minister  should  be  familiar  with  that  wonderful 
book  which  he  professes  to  explain  and  to  defend.  His  life  is 
none  too  long  to  make  it  the  object  of  his  study ;  nor  will  the 
field  be  all  explored  when  ive  die.  It  will  be  as  fresh,  and  beau- 
tiful, and  new,  too,  to  the  next  generation  as  it  is  to  us ;  and 
when  we  die,  so  far  from  havi«g  reached  the  ultima  Thule  of  dis- 
covery in  the  word  of  God,  we  shall  feel  that  we  have  but  just 
entered  on  the  boundless  ocean.  I  confess  that  long  since  /have 
abandoned  all  idea  of  fully  understanding  the  Bible  in  all  its  parts 
in  this  world ;  and  I  am  amazed  when  men  gravely  suppose 
there  cannot  be  truths  there,  like  diamonds  in  the  earth,  on  which 
the  eye  has  never  yet  gazed. — The  amount  of  what  I  have  said 
on  this  point  is  this,  that  the  preacher  who  would  make  full 
proof  of  the  ministry,  should  derive  all  his  doctrines  from  the 
word  of  God ;  he  should  be  familiar  with  all  that  can  illustrate 
the  Bible ; — with  its  language,  its  scope,  its  design ;  with  all  in 
criticism,  archeeology,  history,  travels,  manners,  customs,  laws, 
that  shall  go  to  vindicate  its  divine  origin,  and  explain  its  mean- 
ing. From  this  pure  fountain  of  Ufe  he  should  constantly  drink. 
Let  him  climb  the  hill  of  Calvary  rather  than  the  heights  of  Par- 
nassus, and  love  less  to  linger  at  the  Castalian  Fount  than  at 

"  Siloah's  brook  that  flowed 
Fast  by  the  oracle  of  God. 


Ivi  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

II.  The  times  in  -which  we  live  demand  a  ministry  that  shall 
be  distinguished  for  sound  and  solid  learning.  Never,  indeed,  can 
this  qualification  be  safely  dispensed  with  ;  but  there  is  not  a  lit- 
tle in  our  age  and  country  that  peculiarly  demands  it.  In  no  na- 
tion on  the  face  of  the  earth  has  there  been  a  more  prevailing  and 
permanent  conviction  that  this  was  an  important,  if  not  an  essen- 
tial qualification  for  the  ministr}^,  than  in  our  own ;  and  to  this 
conviction,  and  the  natural  result  of  that  conviction  in  preparing 
the  ministry  for  its  work,  is  to  be  traced  no  small  measure  of  the 
respect  shown  to  the  sacred  oflfice  in  our  land.  Our  countrymen 
in  general  are  qualified  to  appreciate  good  sense,  solid  learning, 
and  high  attainments,  and  they  are  prepared  to  do  honor  to  such 
attainments  wherever  they  may  be  found.  It  is  a  bright  fact  in 
our  history  that  the  first  college  in  our  land  Avas  founded  for  the 
purpose  of  training  up  men  for  the  Christian  ministry ;  and  it  is  a 
fact,  tliat  is  at  the  same  time  honorable  to  the  solid  learning  of 
the  ministr}',  and  that  bespeaks  the  confidence  which  the  com- 
munity reposes  in  the  ministry,  that  nearly  all  the  Presidents, 
and  a  very  large  portion  of  the  professors  in  our  colleges,  are,  to 
this  day,  ministers  of  the  gospel.  The  people  of  this  nation  are 
willing  that  this  state  of  things  sHould  continue.  They  evince 
no  impotience  under  the  working  of  the  system.  They  desire  no 
change.  The  experience  of  two  hundred  years  has  satisfied  them 
that  the  system  works  well ;  and  the  men  of  the  world,  and  even 
the  majority  of  infidels  in  the  land,  who  have  sons  to  educate,  are 
80  satisfied  with  the  propriety  of  the  arrangement,  tliat  all  they 
demand  is  the  evidence  of  solid  learning  united  with  piety,  to 
place  all  these  institutions  in  the  hands  of  the  ministers  of  the 
gospel. 

But  it  is  not  with  this  reference  now  that  I  advocate  the  ne- 
cessity of  solid  learning.  It  is  with  reference  to  the  immediate 
duties  of  the  pastoral  office.  I  do  not  believe  that  a  minister  of 
the  gospel  should  enter  on  his  work  with  a  view  to  become  ulti- 
mately a  President  of  a  literary  institution.  If  he  becomes  such, 
it  should  be  because  there  are  intimations  of  divine  will  that 
do  not  leave  the  question  of  duty  in  doubt.  It  is  with  reference 
to  the  oflfice  of  Pastor ;  to  the  work  of  the  ministry  ;  to  the  busi- 
ness of  saving  souls,  that  I  now  urge  the  argument  that  the  times 
demand  a  ministry  that  shall  be  distinguished  for  solid  learning. 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


Ivii 


It  should  be  for  the  following  among  many  other  reasons  :  (1.) 
There  is  great  danger  of  neglecting  and  undervaluing  such  attain- 
ments. There  is  great  danger  that,  with  whatever  views  the  minis- 
try may  be  entered,  the  attention  may  be  soon  turned  from  the  pur- 
suit of  whatever  can  be  appropriate!}'  classed  under  the  head  of 
classical  attainments,  or  whatever  bears  on  the  sciences,  or  what- 
ever marks  progress  in  the  severe  discipline  of  the  mind.  This  is 
an  age  of  action — in  the  ministry  and  in  the  world.  It  is  a  time 
when  ministers  are  called  to  a  great  amount  of  labor  ;  when  they 
are  expected  to  perform  a  much  larger  amount  of  pastoral  duties 
than  was  required  in  the  days  of  om*  fathers  ;  when  the  numerous 
benevolent  institutions  of  the  age  make  a  constant  draft  on  the 
time,  and  strength,  and  toil  of  pastors  ;  Avhen  the  cause  of  tem- 
perance, of  morals,  and  of  missions — with  numerous  kindred 
causes  depend  on  the  ministers  of  the  gospel ;  and  Avhen,  there- 
fore, they  are  in  great  danger  of  satisfying  their  consciences  for  a 
neglect  of  classic  learning,  by  the  fact  that  they  are  called  to  a 
great  amount  of  collateral  duties.  It  is  not  to  be  w^ondered  at 
that  in  these  circumstances  a  warm-hearted  pastor  in  the  midst 
of  the  thrilling  scenes  of  a  work  of  grace,  or  in  the  pleasantness 
of  the  pastoral  intercoui-se,  or  in  the  wearisomeness  caused  by  the 
demands  on  his  time,  should  excuse  himself  from  the  diligent 
pursuit  of  the  somewhat  foreign  or  collateral  subjects  that  do  not 
bear  directly  on  his  work.  (2.)  Again.  This  is  an  age  when 
the  mass  of  men  are  driven  forward  by  headlong  propensities, 
and  when  there  is  danger  of  trampling  down,  in  the  pursuit  of 
honor  and  of  gold,  all  that  has  been  hitherto  regarded  as  valuable 
and  settled  in  solid  learning,  as  well  as  in  staid  and  virtuous  hab- 
its. To  careful  observers  of  the  propensities  of  this  age  it  has 
not  been  regarded  as  a  matter  of  wonder  that  the  attempt  should 
have  been  made  to  displace  classic  learning  from  the  schools,  and 
to  introduce  men  into  the  ministry  by  a  shorter  course  than  our 
fathers  thought  necessary,  and  in  such  a  way  as  to  unfit  them, 
when  in  the  ministry,  for  any  eminent  attainments  in  solid  learn- 
ing. It  is  one  of  the  regular  results  of  the  course  of  events  in 
this  age.  It  is  an  age,  say  those  who  plead  for  this,  of  enterprise 
and  action.  A  large  part  of  life,  they  go  on  to  remark,  is  wasted 
before  men  begin  to  act.  Months  and  years  are  consumed  in  the 
attainment  of  profitless  learning;  in  the  mere  (irilling  of  the 


\viii  LIFE   AND    TIMES 

Christian  soldier,  while  he  ought  to  he  in  the  field.  On  the  basis 
of  such  reasoning  as  this,  the  plan  is  formed  for  preparing  men 
for  action,  and  for  action  only.  The  classics  are  laid  aside.  The 
tini«  of  preparation  is  shortened.  The  field  is  to  be  entered  at  an 
earlier  age,  and  the  '  study'  is  to  be  a  place  quite  secondary  and 
unimportant  in  the  arrangements  of  the  ministerial  life.  Have 
such  men  forgotten  that  a  long  and  tedious  training,  involving, 
apparently,  a  great  waste  of  time,  is  the  allotment  of  man? 
"Wliat  would  seem  to  be  a  greater  waste  of  time  than  that  one- 
third  of  the  ordinary  life  of  man  in  the  period  of  infancy,  child- 
hood, and  youth,  is  passed  in  the  slow  and  cumbersome  process 
of  learning  to  talk,  to  move,  to  read,  to  think,  and  to  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  elements  of  the  mechanic  arts  ?  Is  it  then  a 
departure  from  the  established  laws  of  the  world,  when  men  are 
called  by  long  and  weary  toils,  to  prepare  for  the  momentous 
work  of  leading  sinners  to  the  altar  and  the  cross  ?  Who  knows 
not  how  much  more  was  gained  on  the  field  of  Waterloo,  or  in 
the  strife  at  Trafalgar,  by  regular  and  disciplined  troops,  than 
could  have  been  done  by  raw  and  undisciplined  men  ?  And  who, 
when  the  banners  of  victory  float  over  the  fields  of  the  slain,  or 
the  acclamations  of  emancipated  freemen  greet  the  returning  con- 
queror, regret  the  days  of  discipline,  or  the  time  spent  in  prepar- 
ing for  conflict  ?  And  who  is  to  stand  up  against  the  headlong 
propensities  of  this  age,  if  it  be  not  the  minister  of  the  gospel  ? 
And  who  are  to  teach  our  deluded  countrymen  that  there  is  some- 
thing better  than  gold  ;  that  the  landmarks  of  opinion  and  learn- 
ing, of  morals  and  sound  sense,  are  not  to  be  trodden  down,  if  it 
be  not  the  ministers  of  religion  ?  And  where  shall  we  look  for 
that  which  will  command  the  respect  of  thinking  men,  if  it  be 
not  to  those  who  have  been  trained  with  care  in  our  schools,  and 
who  are,  by  their  oflice,  to  be  the  guides  and  instructors  of  man- 
kind ?  Again;  (3.)  The  age  in  which  we  live,  is,  perhaps,  more 
than  most  former  ages,  a  period  when  the  attacks  on  Christianity 
liave  been  drawn  from  learning  and  science.  Each  of  the  sciences 
as  it  has  developed  itself,  has  been  arrayed  in  some  form  against 
the  authority  of  the  Bible,  and  often  by  the  skill  of  the  adversaries 
of  tlie  Christian  religion  in  such  a  form  as  to  alarm  its  friends. 
At  one  time  the  argument  was  derived  from  the  disclosures  of 
modern  astronomy ;  at  another  from  the  ancient  records  of  Hin- 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


fix 


dostan  and  China,  and  the  dynasties  of  kings  who  are  recorded  to 
have  reigned  cylces  of  ages  before  the  account,  in  Moses,  of  the 
creation;  at  another  time  the  infidel  has  gone  and  interrogated 
the  crater  of  the  volcano  and  searched  its  liardened  scoriae,  and 
made  it  tell  of  ages  long  before  the  Scripture  account  of  the  crea- 
tion of  man;  and  at  another  tlie  argument  has  been  drawn  from 
the  researches  of  the  geologist.  All  sciences  have  been  taxed  to 
find  objections  to  the  Bible ;  and  there  are  few  infidels  who  have 
not  derived  their  objections  from  some  form  of  pretended  learn- 
ing. In  such  an  age,  what  shall  the  ministers  of  religion  do  who 
are  unable  to  defend  the  book,  to  vindicate  and  explain  which  is 
the  business  of  their  lives  ?  In  this,  strife  and  declamation  will 
not  do  for  argument ;  nor  will  assertion,  however  confident  or 
fierce,  satisfy  thinking  men.  The  minister  of  the  gospel  should, 
as  he  easily  may,  command  the  respect  of  his  fellow-men,  and 
should  show  them — as  he  easily  may,  without  ostentation — that 
he  is  not  unworthy  the  confidence  due  to  one  in  the  office  which 
he  sustains. 

I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  objections  which  may  be  felt  and  urg- 
ed to  these  remarks.  I  know  it  may  be  asked  how  is  time  to  be 
found  for  these  attainments  ?  How  shall  health  be  secured  for 
these  objects  ?  And  another  question,  not  less  important,  how 
shall  the  heart  be  kept,  and  the  fire  of  devotion  be  maintained, 
brightly  burning  on  the  altar  of  the  heart,  while  making  these 
preparations  ?  I  should  transcend  all  reasonable  bounds  in  my 
remarks,  if  I  were  to  attempt  to  go  fully  into  an  answer  to  these 
inquiries.  I  would  only  observe  that  it  may  be  at  least  question- 
able whether  all  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  have  just  that  sense 
of  the  value  of  time  which  they  ought  to  have,  and  whether  all 
make  full  proof  of  their  ministry  in  the  utmost  cultivation  of  their 
powers.  The  quesiiun  whether  the  diligence  of  the  student  and 
the  faithfulness  of  the  pastor  can  be  united ;  whether  the  intel- 
lect may  be  intensely  cultivated  so  as  not  to  interfere  with  the 
growth  of  grace  in  the  heart ;  and  whether  time  can  be  secured 
for  the  pursuit  of  these  objects,  and  yet  not  interfere  with  the 
public  duties  of  the  ministry  ;  whether  a  man  may  so  study  as  to 
contribute  something  to  carry  forward  the  intellect  of  liis  age,  and 
yet  not  interfere  with  his  duties  in  the  pulpit,  in  the  prayer-meet- 
ing, in  the  Bible-class,  and  in  family  visitation,  and  so  as  to  seciire 


IX  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

permanent  health  also  is  a  question  which  it  would  be  of  im- 
mense importance  to  settle.  "  What  shall  we  say  to  the  nine 
ponderous  folios  of  Augustine,  and  nearly  the  same  number  of 
Chrysostom,  volumes  not  written  like  Jerome's  in  monastic  re- 
tirement, but  in  the  midst  of  almost  daily  preaching  engage- 
ments, and  conflicting,  anxious,  and  responsible  duties  ?"  What 
shall  we  say  of  the  nine  folios  of  Calvin — the  most  diligent 
preacher  of  his  age — the  man  who  read  every  week  in  the  year, 
three  lectures  in  divinity  ;  and  who  preached  two  hundred  and 
eighty-six  times  in  the  year  ?  What  shall  we  say  to  the  folios 
of  Baxter,  the  most  laborious  pastor  and  the  most  successful  min- 
ister of  his  day  ?  What  shall  we  say  of  the  volumes  of  Edwards, 
perhaps  the  most  laborious  student,  as  he  was  the  profoundest 
man  and  the  best  preacher  of  his  time  ?  In  that  great  man,  as- 
suredly, profound  study  never  interfered  with  humble-hearted 
piety  ;  and  in  him  the  contemplation  of  the  most  abstruse  sub- 
jects of  metaphysical  inquiry  did  not  interfere  with  the  most  sim- 
ple style  of  preaching,  or  with  that  solemn  and  effective  elo- 
quence of  the  heart  which  bathe?*  a  congregation  in  tears.  But 
I  cannot  enlarge  on  this  point.  The  sum  of  my  remarks  is,  that 
we  may  not  in  this  age  have  learned  the  art  of  making  fall  proof 
of  our  ministry,  and  that  there  may  be  a  blending  of  study,  and 
piety,  and  pastoral  fidelity  such  as  shall  greatly  augment  the  use- 
fulness of  those  who  minister  at  the  altar. 

III.  The  times  demand  a  ministry  of  sober  views  ;  of  settled 
liabits  of  industry  ;  of  plain  practical  good  sense ;  of  sound  and 
judicious  modes  of  thinking ;  a  ministry  that  shall  be  patient, 
equable,  persevering,  and  that  shall  look  for  success  rather  in  the 
proper  results  of  patient  toil,  than  in  new  experiments,  and  new 
modes  of  doing  things.  Against  real  improvements,  and  plans 
that  shall  really  save  labor,  or  that  shall  be  a  wise  adaptation  of 
skill  to  save  labor,  no  good  man  can  utter  a  word.  Such  plans 
are  not  to  be  rejected  merely  because  they  appear  to  be  innova^ 
tions,  nor  is  anything  to  be  set  down  as  certainly  wrong  because 
it  is  new.  If  a  doctrine  or  measure  be  true  and  wise,  no  minister 
of  the  gospel  should  be  found  in  opposition  to  it.  Bat  the  idea 
which  I  wish  to  convey,  is,  that  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  should 
not  expect  to  accomplish  their  objects  by  anything  which  con^ 
templates  success  as  the  mere  result  of  new  and  untried  experi- 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  Ixi 

ments,  or  anything  which  shall  be  originated  to  avoid  severe,  and 
patient,  and  protracted  toil.  Success  should  not  be  expected  from 
that  which  is  adapted  merely  to  startle,  shock,  surprise,  confound, 
or  perplex.  Success  should  not  be  looked  for  as  the  result  of 
scheming,  of  dark  plans,  of  unusual  modes  of  thought,  of  para- 
doxes in  theology,  or  in  an  affected  originality.  The  men  who 
enter  the  ministry  should  be  men  who  will  be  willing  to  labor 
patiently  as  long  as  may  be  necessary  to  accomplish  an  object ; 
to  tread  on  if  necessary,  in  a  path  which  has  been  trodden  by 
thousands  before ;  and  at  the  close  of  life  to  look  back  upon  re- 
sults gained  by  patient  toil  rather  than  on  the  results  of  fitful 
efforts,  however  brilliant,  or  whicii  have  only  served  to  startle 
and  amaze  mankind.  Need  I  state  reasons  why  the  age  de- 
mands such  a  ministry  ?  Not  so  much  for  the  purpose  of  stating 
reasons  as  for  illustrating  what  I  mean,  I  would  refer  to  the  fol- 
lowing summary  of  points  which  I  have  not  room  to  illustrate 
at  length.  (1.)  The  people  of  our  nation,  and  our  ancestors  in 
our  father-land,  have  hitherto  been  distinguished  among  other 
nations  for  this :  for  what  is  sensible  and  solid  rather  than  for 
what  is  brilliant ;  for  the  useful  rather  than  the  visionary ;  for 
patient  toil  rather  than  for  mere  experiment;  for  what  Mr. 
Locke  calls  "  large,  sound,  round-about  sense ;"  a  trait  of  charac- 
ter which  has  given  us  some  advantages,  at  least,  over  the  vola- 
tile Frenchman,  the  dull  and  dark  Spaniard,  the  effeminate  Ita- 
lian, and  the  visionary  and  contemplative  German:  and  it  is 
desirable  that  the  ministry  should  do  something^  at  least,  to 
maintain  this  trait  in  the  national  character.  (2.)  The  age  in 
which  we  live  is  'becoming  visionary,  and  wild,  and  headlong  in 
its  propensities.  Bubbles  swell  and  burst  on  every  side ;  fancied 
cities  of  extreme  beauty  and  eminent  commercial  advantages,  on 
'pa'pe)\  rise  on  every  hill,  and  in  every  vale,  and  beside  every 
water-fall  and  stream,  and  fall,  and  are  succeeded  by  others  as 
rapidly  as  if  they  were  some  splendid  moving  pageant ;  fortunes 
are  made  and  lost  as  if  men  were  playing  marbles,  or  as  if  the 
business  of  life  Imd  become  the  sports  of  children.  (3.)  There  is 
a  tendency  to  crowd  these  things  into  religion,  and  to  pursue  the 
work  of  religion,  and  the  business  of  saving  souls,  by  plans  as 
wild  as  those  by  which  men  seek  gain.  Novel  theories  are 
broached  ;  novel  plans  formed  ;  associations  are  entered  into  for 


Ixii  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

'mpracticable  purposes ;  and  opinions  are  started  anew  and  advo- 
cated, which  experience  has  shown  to  have  been  wild,  and  false, 
and  dangerous  centuries  ago.  Soon  many  of  those  plans  are 
abandoned — as  the  paper  cities  disappear  from  the  map  of  the 
nation  ;  or  the  vain  speculator  in  theology  gains  as  much  wisdom 
and  knowledge  as  the  speculator  in  lands  and  town  lots  does 
gold  ;  and  time  is  wasted  for  "  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  labor 
for  that  wdiich  satisfieth  not." 

(4.)  From  such  bubbles,  and  from  mere  experiments,  the  min- 
istry should  stand  aloof.  These  games,  if  they  must  be  played, 
should  be  played  by  the  world.  By  example,  and  by  precept,  by 
a  patient,  sober,  practical  life,  as  well  as  by  preaching,  the  min- 
isters of  the  gospel  are  to  recall  men  to  the  soberness  of  truth.  A 
preacher  has  no  time  to  lose  in  mere  experiments;  none  to 
squander  in  idle  speculations.  The  average  length  of  time  in  the 
ministry  in  this  country  is  probably  not  twenty  years ;  and  all 
that  tune  may  be  filled  up  in  a  course  of  undoubted  wisdom,  and 
a  warfare  with  evil,  where  not  one  blow  shall  be  struck  on  the 
empty  air. 

(5.)  Again.  The  age  in  which  we  live  is  becoming  distinguished 
.not  merely  for  pursuits  of  things  of  little  or  no  promise  or  utility, 
but  for  putting  things  of  real  value  out  of  their  places ;  or  for  the 
disproportionate  location  of  things  of  real  worth.  There  are  mul- 
titudes of  men  who  become  eminent,  not  for  pursuing  an  object  of 
no  importance,  but  for  pursuing  it  in  a  manner  which  requires 
everything  else  to  give  place  to  it.  Some  one  favorite  project  is 
held  so  near  to  the  eye,  that  nothing  else  is  seen ;  and  they  are 
distinguished  for  what  is  known  in  a  homely,  but  expressive 
phrase,  for  riding  hobbies.  With  one,  temperance  is  everything ; 
with  another,  the  tract  cause ;  with  another,  the  Bible  cause;  with 
another,  the  cause  of  moral  reform;  with  another,  the  rights  of 
the  slave  ;  and  so  on  through  all  the  catalogue  of  the  plans  of  be- 
nevolence, wise  and  unwise.  With  one,  the  age  goes  too  fast ;  and 
the  great  design  of  the  ministry  is  to  "  stand  still  and  hold  back  ;" 
and  with  another,  the  ago  goes  to  slow ;  and  the  object  of  the 
ministry  is,  Jehu-like,  to  spur  on  its  sluggish  movements.  Many 
or  most  of  these  things  are  seen  and  admitted  to  be  important ; 
and  they  who  do  not  see  them  as  their  advocates  do,  are  de- 
nounced as  accessories  to  the  evils  to  bo  remedied,  or  as  time- 
servers.     All  the  interests  of  the  church  and  the  state  ;  of  Chris- 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  Ixill 

tian  and  heathen  lands,  are  made  to  turn  on  the  success  of  the 
one  project ;  and  he  who  does  not  see  it  as  the  zealous  advocate 
does,  is  held  up  as  recreant  to  his  master.  Now,  however  natu- 
ral this  amiable  propensity  may  be  to  men  who  have  but  one 
cause  to  advocate,  yet  it  is  not  the  feeling  which  is  to  be  culti- 
vated by  the  ministry  of  the  gospel.  The  pastor,  the  great  guar- 
dian, under  God,  of  the  dearest  interests  of  benevolence,  of  social 
order,  and  of  the  rights  of  man,  is  to  look  out  with  a  well- 
balanced  mind,  and  a  clear  and  calm  eye,  upon  all  the  interests 
of  benevolence.  He  is  to  endeavor  to  look  upon  things  in  their 
just  proportions.  He  is  to  look  abroad  upon  the  w^orld.  Tem- 
perance is  not  everything ;  nor  is  the  cause  of  foreign  missions, 
or  domestic  missions,  or  tracts,  or  human  liberty  everything. 
They  are  parts  of  one  great  whole;  the  plans  for  these  and  kin- 
dred objects  are  bright  and  beautiful  portions  in  the  great  pic- 
ture of  benevolence.  To  the  pastoral  office  we  look  that  these 
objects  should  be  held  up  in  their  proper  proportions ;  and  the 
moment  when  the  pastor  loses  the  proper  balance  of  his  mind, 
and  begins  to  ride  "  a. hobby,"  that  moment  his  usefulness  begins 
to  wane. 

(6.)  One  other  thought  under  this  head.  The  age  demands  a 
ministry  distinguished  for  sober  industry.  There  is  enough  to 
accomplish  to  demand  all  the  time,  audit  cannot  be  accomplished 
by  mere  genius,  or  by  fitful  efforts.  It  must  be  by  patient  toil. 
An  industrious  man,  no  matter  what  his  talents,  will  always 
make  himself  respectable ;  an  indolent  man,  no  matter  what  his 
genius,  never  can  be.  In  the  ministry,  pre-eminently,  no  man 
should  presume  on  his  genius,  or  talents,  or  superiority  to  the 
mass  of  minds  around  him.  A  man  owes  his  best  efforts  to  his 
people,  and  to  his  master ;  to  the  one  by  a  solemn  compact  when 
he  becomes  their  pastor,  to  the  other  by  sacred  covenant  when 
deeply  feeling  the  guilt  of  sin  and  the  grateful  sense  of  pardon, 
he  gave  himself  to  the  great  Redeemer  in  the  ministry  of  recon- 
ciliation. An  idle  man  in  the  ministry  is  a  violator  of  at  least 
two  sacred  compacts ;  and  upon  such  a  man  God  will  not,  does 
not  smile. 

IV.  The  times  demand  men  in  the  ministry  who  shall  be  the 
warm  and  unflinching  advocates  of  every  good  cause. 


Ixiv  LIFK    AND    TIMES 

(1.)  Men  are  required  who  shall  have  so  well-settled  and  in- 
telligent views  of  trutli  as  not  to  be  afraid  of  the  examination  of 
any  opinion,  or  afraid  to  defend  any  sentiment  which  is  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  word  of  God.  They  shonld  be  men  of  such 
independence  of  mind,  that  they  will  examine  every  subject,  and 
every  opinion  that  may  be  submitted  to  them,  or  on  which  they 
may  be  called  to  act.  The  times  are  not  theoretically  against 
free  discussion  and  the  independent  maintenance  of  one's  own 
opinions.  The  character  of  the  age  will  not  tolerate  that.  But 
the  secret  aim  is,  to  screen  2^  few  points  from  examination.  It  is 
so  to  present  the  authority  of  past  times  and  of  great  names,  as  to 
secure  certain  points  from  examination.  Now  the  pulpit  is  to 
be  one  place — if  the  last  in  the  world — of  free  and  independent 
examination  of  all  tlie  opinions  which  can  affect  the  destiny  or 
the  duty  of  man.  Should  the  right  of  free  examination  and  of 
free  discussion  be  driven  from  the  capitol ;  should  the  conductors 
of  the  press  cower  before  the  outbreakings  of  popular  violence  ; 
should  men  in  all  other  places  succeed  in  isolating  certain  sub- 
jects as  points  which  are  never  to  be  examined ;  yet  the  pulpit 
is  to  remain  as  the  last  place  to  w^hich  liberty  is  to  take  its 
flight,  and  in  the  sanctuary  men  are  to  breathe  freely,  and  to  be 
allowed  to  speak  their  emotions  with  no  one  to  make  them 
afraid.  Our  fathers,  in  this  commonwealth,  worshipped  God 
with  arms  in  their  hands,  to  guard  themselves  from  the  attacks 
of  savage  barbarians.  Not  with  sucli  arms,  we  trust,  are  we  to 
defend  the  right  of  free  discussion ;  but  such  a  wilderness  is 
again  to  be  sought — if  there  remains  such  an  one  on  the  earth  — 
and  such  perils  again  encountered,  before  the  sons  of  the  pilgrims 
shall  yield  the  right  of  the  free  expression  of  their  sentiments  in 
the  pulpit,  on  all  the  great  questions  that  affect  the  welfare  of 
man.  The  man  of  God  is  to  enter  that  sacred  place  with  his 
Bible  as  his  guide,  and  is  to  be  unawed  in  its  exposition  by  any 
great  names ;  by  any  fear  of  personal  violence  ;  by  any  decrees 
of  councils ;  or  by  any  law^s  which  this  world  can  ever  promul- 
gate to  fetter  the  freedom  of  thought.  There,  at  least,  is  to  be 
one  place  where  truth  may  be  examined,  and  where  the  voice 
of  God  may  be  heard  in  our  world ;  and  there,  as  long  as  he 
who  holds  the  stars  in  his  right  hand  shall  continue  life,  is  the 
truth  to  shine  forth  on  a  dark  world. 


OF    THE    AUTHOR.  IxV 

2.  Men  are  required  in  the  ministry  who  shall  be  the  warm 
and  decided  friends  of  tlie  tenipei-ance  reformation  ;  and  whose 
opinions  and  practice  on  this  subject  shall  be  shaped  by  the  strict- 
est laws  of  morals.  For  this  opinion,  the  reasons  are  plain.  The 
temperance  reform  is  one  of  the  features  of  the  age.  Revolutions 
do  not  go  backward ;  and  this  cause  is  destined,  it  is  believed,  to 
triumph,  and  ultimately  to  settle  down  on  the  principles  of  the 
most  strict  morals.  It  was  a  sage  remark  of  Jefferson,  that  no 
good  cause  is  undertaken  and  persevered  in,  which  does  not  ulti- 
mately overcome  every  obstacle  and  secure  a  final  triumph  ;  and 
if  anything  certain  respecting  the  future  can  be  argued  from  the 
past,  it  is  that  this  cause  will  secure  an  ultimate  victory.  The 
people  will  carry  it  forward,  whatever  may  be  the  feelings  of  the 
ministers  of  the  gospel.  Now,  it  is  not  only  the  duty  of  the  min- 
isters of  religion  to  be  foremost  in  "  every  good  word  and  work," 
but  it  is  a  fact  that  they  may  soon  be  left  far  in  the  rear  in  this 
cause,  and  a  fact  that  such  a  position  will  materially  impede 
their  own  work.  A  people  zealous  in  the  cause  of  temperance 
will  not  long  sit  under  the  ministrations  of  a  man  who  indulges 
in  intoxicating  drinks ;  nor  can  he,  by  any  eloquence  in  preach- 
ing, counteract  the  efiect  which  this  single  fact  will  have  on  their 
minds.  Besides,  the  ministry  has  already  sutFered  enough  from 
intemperance.  Not  a  few  men  in  this  land,  of  the  brightest 
talent  that  was  ever  adapted  to  adorn  the  pulpit,  have  fallen  a 
sacrifice  to  this  destroyer ;  and  they  have  left  their  names  to  be 
mentioned  hereafter  with  pity  and  dishonor. 

(3.)  In  like  manner,  the  times  demand  a  ministry  that  shall 
be  the  unflinching  advocates  of  revivals  of  religion.  Such  men 
lived  in  other  times ;  and  such  scenes  blessed  the  land  where 
Davis,  and  Edwards,  and  Whitfield,  and  the  Tennents  lived. 
What  is  needed  now  is  the  ministry  of  men  who  have  an  intelli- 
gent faith  in  revivals;  who  have. no  fear  of  the  effects  which 
truth,  under  the  direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  shall  have  on  the 
mind  ;  who  shall  so  far  understand  the  philosophy  of  revivals  as 
to  be  able  to  vindicate  them  when  assailed,  and  to  show  to  men 
of  intelligence  that  they  are  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  our 
nature ;  and  whose  preaching  shall  be  such  as  shall  be  fitted, 
under  the  direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  secure  such  results  on 
the  minds  of  men.     To   revivals  of  religion  our  country  owes 


Ixvi  LIFE    AND    TIMES 

more  tban  all  other  moral  causes  put  together  ;  and  if  our  in- 
stitutions are  preserved  in  safety,  it  must  be  by  such  extraordi- 
nary manifestations  of  the  presence  and  the  power  of  God.  Our 
sons  forsake  the  homes  of  their  fathers  ;  they  wander  away  from 
the  place  of  schools  and  churches  to  the  wilderness  of  the  west ; 
they  go  from  the  sound  of  the  Sabbath-bell,  and  they  forget  the 
Sabbath  and  the  Bible,  and  the  place  of  prayer ;  they  leave  the 
places  where  thhir  fathers  sleep  in  their  graves,  and  they  forget 
the  religion  which  sustained  and  comforted  them.  They  go  for 
gold,  and  they  wander  over  the  prairie,  they  fell  the  forest,  they 
ascend  the  stream  in  pursuit  of  it,  and  they  trample  down  the 
law  of  the  Sabbath  ;  and  soon,  too,  forget  the  laws  of  honesty 
and  fair-dealing,  in  the  insatiable  love  of  gain.  Meantime,  every 
man,  such  is  our  freedom,  may  advance  any  sentiments  he  pleases. 
He  may  defend  them  by  all  the  power  of  argument,  and  enforce 
them  by  all  the  eloquence  of  persuasion.  He  may  clothe  his 
corrupt  sentiments  in  the  charms  of  verse,  and  he  may  make  a 
thousand  cottages  beyond  the  mountains  re-echo  with  the  cor- 
rupt and  the  corrupting  strain.  He  may  call  to  his  aid  the  power 
o-f  the  press,  and  may  secure  a  lodgment  for  his  infidel  senti- 
ments in  the  most  distant  habitation  in  the  republic.  What  can 
meet  this  state  of  things,  and  arrest  the  evils  that  spread  with 
the  fleetness  of  the  courser  or  the  wind?  What  can  pursue  and 
overtake  these  wanderers  but  revivals  of  religion — but  that 
Spirit  which,  like  the  Avind,  acts  where  it  pleases?  Yet  they 
must  be  pursued.  If  our  sons  go  thus,  they  are  to  be  followed 
and  reminded  of  the  commands  of  God.  None  of  them  are  to  be 
suftered  to  go  to  any  fertile  vale  or  prairie  in  the  west  without 
the  institutions  of  the  gospel ;  nor  are  they  to  be  suffered  to  con- 
struct a  hamlet,  or  to  establish  a  village,  or  to  build  a  city  that 
shall  be  devoted  to  any  other  God  than  the  God  of  their  fathers. 
By  all  the  self-denials  of  benevolence ;  by  all  the  power  of  ar- 
gument; by  all  the  implored  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  they 
are  to  be  persuaded  to  plant  there  the  rose  of  Sharon,  and  to 
make  the  wilderness  and  the  solitary  place  to  be  glad,  and  the 
desert  to  bud  and  blossom  as  the  rose.  In  such  circumstances 
God  HAS  interposed ;  and  he  has  thus  blessed  our  own  land  and 
times  with  signal  revivals  of  religion. 

Our  whole  country  thus  far  has  been  guarded  and  protected 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


Ixvii 


by  the  presence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  "  American  revivals  " 
have  been  the  objects  of  the  most  intense  interest  among  those 
in  other  lands  who  have  sought  to  understand  the  secret  of  our 
prosperity.  That  man  who  enters  the  pulpit  with  a  cold  heart 
and  a  doubtful  mind,  in  regard  to  such  works  of  grace ;  who 
looks  with  suspicion  on  the  means  which  the  Spirit  of  God  has 
appointed  and  blessed  for  this  object  in  past  times ;  and  who  co- 
incides with  the  enemies  of  revivals  in  denouncing  them  as  fana- 
ticism, understands  as  little  the  history  of  his  own  country  as  he 
does  the  laws  of  the  human  mind  and  the  Bible,  and  lacks  the 
spirit  which  a  man  should  have  who  stands  in  an  American 
pulpit. 

(4.)  Men  are  required  who  shall  stand  up  as  the  firm  advo- 
cates of  missions,  and  of  every  proper  project  for  the  world's  con- 
version. That  great  design  of  bringing  this  whole  world,  by  the 
divine  blessing,  under  the  influence  of  Christian  truth,  is  one  of 
the  strong  features  of  the  age ;  and  the  hope  and  expectation  of 
it  has  seized  upon  the  churches  with  a  tenacity  which  will  not 
be  relaxed.  The  plan  is  not  the  work  of  a  moment,  and  has  none 
of  the  marks  of  enthusiasm.  There  never  was  a  plan  of  conquest 
that  was  so  deliberately  formed,  or  that  enlisted  so  many  hearts 
before.  Schemes  of  victory  to  be  gained  by  blood  have  usually 
been  formed  by  some  one  master  mind — some  ambitious  monarch 
or  warrior,  while  the  nation  over  which  he  ruled  had  no  sympa- 
thy with  the  plan,  and  no  agency  in  its  formation ;  or  where  the 
army  was  led  on  by  the  strength  of  military  discipline  alone. 
But  this  is  not  the  origin  of  the  plan  for  securing  the  conquest  of 
this  world  for  God.  It  is  no  plan  of  a  leader  simply  ;  it  has  been 
formed  by  the  church  at  large — the  mass  of  Christians  who  are 
prepared  to  go  on  with  it  Avhether  the  ministers  of  religion  will 
or  will  not  guide  them.  The  church  at  large  will  bear  with  no 
patience  opposition  in  the  ministry  to  this  great  undertaking  ;  nor 
can  a  minister  long  hold  his  place  in  the  confidence  and  affections 
of  the  church,  whose  heart  is  not  in  this  work.  He  who  does 
not  enter  on  this  work  prepared  to  devote  his  talents  and  learn- 
ing, his  heart  and  bodily  powers  to  the  advancement  of  this 
cause,  has  not  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  falls  behind  the  times  in 
which  he  lives. 

(5.)  The  times  demand  men  in  the  ministry  who  shall  be  men 


Ixviii 


LIFE    AND    TIMES 


of  peace.  The  period  has  arrived  in  the  history  of  the  world 
when  there  should  be  a  full  and  fair  illustration  of  the  i)Ower  of 
the  gospel  to  produce  a  spirit  of  peace  in  the  hearts  of  all  the 
ambassadors  of  him  who  was  the  "Prince  of  Peace."  The  fond- 
ness for  theological  combat  and  ecclesiastical  gladiatorship,  has 
been  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characteristics  pertaining  to  the 
character  of  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  in  past  times,  and  one 
which  it  may  be  difficult  to  account  for.  In  a  portion  of  the 
ministry,  to  a  melancholy  extent,  this  has  been  a  characteristic 
of  the  ministry  of  the  present-times.  Whatever  may  have  been 
the  causes,  and  whoever  may  have  been  to  blame,  it  is  certain 
that  this  spirit  of  contention  and  strife  is  one  of  the  things  which 
has  been  most  apparent  for  a  few  past  years  ;  and  that  the  wea- 
pons of  war  are  still  kept  furbished,  and  that  the  champions  are 
not  disposed  to  lay  them  aside.  Having  tried  these  weapons 
long  enough,  with  only  the  advantage  that  accrues  to  an  army 
in  a  dark  night,  when  one  part  of  the  army  draws  the  sAvord  on 
another,  there  is  now  needed  a  ministry  that  shall  follow  after 
tlie  things  that  make  for  peace  ;"  where  there  shall  be  mutual 
confidence  and  charity ;  Avhere  there  shall  be  candor  for  one 
another's  imperfections ;  where  there  shall  be  toleration  of 
opinions  on  points  that  do  not  affect  the  essentials  of  Christian 
doctrine ;  and  where  there  shall  be  harmony  of  view  and  action 
on  the  great  work  of  saving  the  world.  For  twenty  years,  it 
may  be  remarked,  particularly,  the  din  of  ecclesiastical  strife  has 
been  heard  again  within  the  bounds  of  that  Christian  community 
of  which  Davies  was  a  minister  and  a  member  ;  and  again,  as  in 
his  time,  that  church  has  been  rent  in  twain,  and  the  noise  of  the 
strife  has  been  heard  afar.  This  strife  has  been  long  enough. 
Enough  of  that  glory  has  been  achieved,  for  one  age,  Avhich  can 
be  achieved  by  arraying  brother  against  brother,  and  altar  against 
altar;  by  skill  in  noisy  polemics  and  in  harsh  denunciation  ;  by 
rending  the  church  asunder,  and  by  triumph  where  victory  is 
always  equal  to  defeat.  We  want  now  men  of  peace,  and  cha- 
rity, and  love ;  men  who  can  bear  and  forbear,  men  who  will 
not  "make  a  brother  an  offender  for  a  word ;'  men  who  shall  be 
more  anxious  to  convert  a  pinner  from  the  errors  of  his  ways  than 
to  defend  the  "  shibboleth  "  of  party.  Such  men,  too,  the  church 
will  soon  have.  It  requires  now  all  the  zeal  and  talent  of  the 
leaders  in  the  strife  to  convince  the  mass  of  Christians  that  the 


OF    THE    AUTHOR. 


Ixix 


controversy  is  of  any  importance  ;  and  even  that  slight  sense  of 
the  importance  of  the  points  for  which  there  is  such  a  noise  of 
contention,  is  fast  dying  away. 

It  is  an  auspicious  circumstance  in  these  times,  that  there  is 
sucli  a  demand  for  such  works  as  those  of  President  Davies,  as 
to  warrant  tlieir  repubh  cation.  The  eftect  of  the  study  of  such 
models  on  the  ministry  and  on  the  churches,  cannot  but  be 
auspicious  to  the  cause  of  evangelical  religion.  It  is  one  of  the 
honors  of  our  country,  young  tliough  we  are,  that  we  do  not  lack 
for  examples  of  the  highest  order  of  preaching ;  and  even  now, 
when  we  look  through  a  gi-eat  library  for  the  best  models,  we 
instinctively  fix  on  some  that  have  been  produced  on  this  side  the 
ocean.  The  purest  models  of  preaching  are  to  be  found  un- 
doubtedly, in  the  discourses  of  the  apostles  and  of  the  Great 
Preacher;  but  after  leavijig  those  times,  we  shall  find  no  land, 
probably,  where  there  have  been  exhibited  more  correct  speci- 
mens of  pure  classic  style,  of  sober  thought,  of  instructive  dis- 
courses, of  a{)penls  adapted  to  rouse  the  concience  of  a  sinner, 
or  to  warm  the  heart  of  a  child  of  God,  than  have  been  furnished 
in  our  own  land.  Tiie  xVmerican  pulpit,  imperfect  as  it  is,  is 
more  elevated  in  its  influence  and  power  than  that  of  any  other 
nation  ;  and  in  no  other  couritry  is  its  influence  so  justly  appre- 
ciated or  so  deeply  felt  on  the  public  mind.  Much  as  we  may 
reve<*e  the  memory  of  the  past ;  much  as  we  may  learn  from  tlie 
wisdom  of  other  generations;  and  much  as  we  may  honor  those 
who  have  been  or  are  distinguished  for  eminent  usefulness  across 
the  waters,  yet  if  we  wish  to  see  the  power  of  preaching  exem- 
plified in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to  derive  instruction  from  the 
lives  and  success  of  those  of  other  times,  we  cannot  find  a  more 
appropiate  place  than  to  sit  down  at  the  feet  of  such  men  as 
Davies,  and  Edwards,  and  the  Tennents,  and  Strong,  and  Pay- 
son,  and  Dwight,  and  Griffin,  and  Bedell.  It  will  be  an  honor  to 
tread  in  the  footsteps  of  such  men ;  it  is  an  indication  of  a  health- 
ful tone  in  the  public  sentiment,  and  of  holy  aspirings  in  the 
candidates  for  the  holy  office,  Avhen  the  works  of  these  men 
shall  be  demanded  from  the  press ;  it  is  an  indication  of  good 
when  the  times  require  the  republication  of  such  discourses  as 
are  here  given  again  to  the  public — the  warm,  glowing,  fervent, 
eloquent  sermons  of  the  nmch  lamented  President  of  Nassau 
Hall. 


SERMONS 


ON 


IMPORTANT   SUBJECTS. 


SERMON  I 

THE    DIVINii    AUTHCEITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN 
RELIGION. 

Luke  xvi.  27 — 31.  Then  he  said,  I  pray  thee  therefore^ 
father^  that  thou  wouldest  send  him  to  my  father"* s  house^ 
for  I  have  five  brethren,  that  he  may  testify  unto  them^ 
lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of  torment.  Abraham 
saith  unto  him,  They  have  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  let 
them  hear  them.  And  he  said,  J^ay,  father  Abraham^ 
but  if  one  went  unto  them  from  the  dead  they  would  re- 
pent. And  he  said  unto  him,  If  they  hear  not  Moses 
and  the  prophets,  neither  will  they  be  persuaded,  though 
one  rose  from  the  dead. 

What  Mieah  said  superstitiously,  when  he  was  rob- 
bed of  his  idols,  Ye  have  taken  away  my  gods  ;  and  what 
have  I  more  1  (Judg.  xviii.  24)  may  be  truly  spoken  with 
regard  to  the  religion  of  Jesus.  If  that  be  taken  from  us, 
what  have  we  more  1  If  the  fowidations  be  destroyed^ 
what  shall  the  righteous  do  ?  Ps.  xi.  3.  The  generality  of 
you  owe  all  your  hopes  of  a  glorious  immortality  to  this 
heaven-born  religion,  and  you  make  it  the  rule  of  your 
faith  and  practice  ;  confident  that  in  so  doing  you  please 
God. 

But  what  if  after  all  you  should  be  mistaken  1  What 
if  the  religion  of  Jesus  should  be  an  imposture  1 — I  know 
you  are  struck  with  horror  at  the  thought,  and  perhaps, 
alarmed  at  my  making  so  shocking  a  supposition.     But 


Tt  THE    DIVIi\E    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

this  suspicion,  horrid  as  it  is,  has  probably  been  sug- 
gested to  you  at  times  by  infernal  agency  :  this  suspi- 
cion may  at  times  have  arisen  in  your  minds  in  their 
wanton  and  licentious  excursions,  or  from  the  false 
alarms  of  a  melancholy  and  timorous  imagination  :  and  if 
this  suspicion  has  never  been  raised  in  you  by  the  so- 
phistioal  conversation  of  loose  wits  and  affected  ration- 
alists, it  has  been  OAving  to  your  happy  retirement  from 
the  polite  world,  where  infidelity  makes  extensive  con- 
quests, under  the  specious  name  of  deism.  Since  there- 
fore you  are  subject  to  an  assault  from  such  a  suspicion, 
when  you  may  not  be  armed  ready  to  repel  it,  let  me 
this  day  start  it  from  its  ambush,  that  I  may  try  the 
force  of  a  few  arguments  upon  it,  and  furnish  you  with 
weapons  to  conquer  it. 

Let  me  also  tell  you,  that  that  faith  in  the  Christian 
religion  which  proceeds  from  insufficient  or  bad  princi- 
ples, is  but  little  better  than  infidelity.  If  you  believe 
the  Christian  religion  to  be  divine,  because  you  hardly 
care  whether  it  be  true  or  false,  being  utterly  uncon- 
cerned about  religion  in  any  shape,  and  therefore  never 
examining  the  matter  ;  if  you  believe  it  true,  because 
you  have  been  educated  in  it  ;  because  your  parents  or 
ministers  have  told  you  so ;  or  because  it  is  the  religion 
or  your  country  ;  if  these  are  the  only  grounds  of  your 
faith,  it  is  not  such  a  faith  as  constitutes  you  true 
Christians  ;  for  upon  the  very  same  grounds  you  would 
have  been  Mahometans  in  Turkey,  disciples  of  Confu- 
cius in  China,  or  worshipers  of  the  Devil  among  the 
Indians,  if  it  had  been  your  unhappy  lot  to  be  born  in 
those  countries  ;  for  a  Mahometan,  or  a  Chinese,  or  an 
Indian,  can  assign  these  grounds  for  his  faith.  Surely, 
I  need  not  tell  you,  that  the  grounds  of  a  mistaken  be- 
lief in  an  imposture,  are  not  a  sufficient  foundation  for  a 
saving  faith  in  divine  revelation.  I  am  afraid  there  are 
many  such  implicit  believers  among  us,  who  are  in  the 
right  only  by  chance  :  and  these  lie  a  prey  to  every 
temptation,  and  may  be  turned  out  of  the  way  of  truth 
by  every  wind  of  doctrine.  It  is  therefore  necessary  to 
teach  them  the  grounds  of  the  Christian  religion,  both 
to  prevent  their  seduction,  and  to  give  them  a  rational 
and  well-grounded  faith,  instead  of  that  which  is  only 
blind  and  accidental. 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  3 

Nay,  such  of  us  «is  have  the  clearest  conviction  of  this 
important  truth,  had  need  to  have  it  inculcated  upon  us, 
that  we  may  be  more  and  more  impressed  with  it ;  for 
the  influence  of  Christianity  u^on  our  hearts  and  lives 
will  be  proportioned  to  the  realizing,  affecting  persua- 
sion of  its  truth  and  certainty  in  our  understandings. 

If  I  can  prove  that  Christianity  answers  all  the  ends  of 
a  religion  from  God ;  if  I  can  prove  that  it  is  attended 
with  sufficient  attestations  ;  if  1  can  prove  that  no  suffi 
cient  objections  can  be  offered  against  it ;  and  that  men 
have  no  reason  at  all  to  desire  another  ;  but  that  if  this 
proves  ineffectual  for  their  reformation  and  salvation, 
there  is  no  ground  to  hope  that  any  other  would  prove 
successful ;  I  say,  if  I  can  prove  these  things,  then 
the  point  in  debate  is  carried,  and  we  must  all  embrace 
the  religion  of  Jesus  as  certainly  true.  These  things 
are  asserted  or  implied  in  my  text,  with  respect  to  the 
scriptures  then  extant,  Moses  and  the  prophets. 

My  text  is  a  parabolical  dialogue  between  Abraham 
and  one  of  his  wretched  posterity,  once  rioting  in  the 
luxuries  of  high  life,  but  now  tormented  in  infernal 
flames. 

We  read  of  his  brethren  in  his  father's  house.  Among 
these  probably  his  estate  was  divided  upon  his  decease  ; 
from  whence  we  may  infer  that  he  had  no  children  :  for 
had  he  had  any,  it  would  have  been  more  natural  to  re- 
present him  as  solicitous  for  their  reformation  by  a  mes- 
senger from  the  dead,  than  for  that  of  his  brothers.  He 
seems,  therefore,  like  some  of  our  unhappy  modern 
rakes,  just  to  have  come  to  his  estate,  and  to  have  aban- 
doned himself  to  such  a  course  of  debaucheries  as  soon 
shattered  his  constitution,  and  brought  him  do\vn  to  the 
grave,  and  alas  !  to  hell,  in  the  bloom  of  life,  when  they 
were  far  from  his,  thoughts.  May  this  be  a  warning  to 
all  of  his  age  and  circumstances  ! 

Whether,  from  some  remaining  affection  to  his  bre 
thren,  or  (which  is  more  likely)  from  a  fear  that  the^ 
who  had  shared  with  him  in  sin  would  increase  his  tor- 
ment, should  they  descend  to  him  in  the  infernal  prison, 
he  is  solicitous  that  Lazarus  might  be  sent  as  an  apostle 
from  the  dead  to  warn  them.  His  petition  is  to  this  pur- 
pose :  "  Since  no  request  in  my  own  favor  can  be  grant 
ed  J  since  I  cannot  obtain  the  poor  favor  of  a  drop  of 


*  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    ANC    SUFFlCltl-'JLY 

water  to  cool  my  flaming  tongue,  let  me  at  least  make 
one  request  in  behalf  of  those  that  are  as  yet  in  the  land 
of  hope,  and  not  beyond  the  reach  of  mercy.  In  my  fa- 
ther's house  I  have  five  brethren,  gay,  thoughtless,  young 
creatures,  who  are  now  rioting  in  those  riches  I  was 
forced  to  leave ;  who  interred  my  mouldering  corpse  in 
state,  little  apprehensive  of  the  doom  of  my  immortal 
part ;  who  are  now  treading  the  same  enchanting  paths 
of  pleasure  I  walked  in :  and  will,  unless  reclaimed,  soon 
descend,  like  me,  thoughtless  and  unprepared,  into  these 
doleful  regions :  I  therefore  pray,  that  thou  wouldest 
send  Lazarus  to  alarm  them  in  their  wild  career,  with  an 
account  of  my  dreadful  doom,  and  inform  them  of  the 
reality  and  importance  of  everlasting  happiness  and  mis- 
ery, that  they  may  reform,  and  so  avoid  this  place  of 
torment,  whence  I  can  never  escape." 

Abraham's  answer  may  be  thus  paraphrased  :  "  If  thy 
brothers  perish,  it  will  not  be  for  Avant  of  means  5  they 
enjoy  the  sacred  scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament,  writ- 
ten by  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  and  these  are  sufficient 
to  inform  them  of  the  necessary  truths  to  regulate  their 
practice,  and  particularly  to  warn  them  of  everlasting 
punishment !  Let  them  therefore  hear  and  regard,  study 
and  obey,  those  writings ;  for  they  need  no  further 
means  for  their  salvation." 

To  this  the  wretched  creature  replies,  "  Nay,  father 
Abraham,  these  means  will  not  avail ;  I  enjoyed  them 
all ;  and  yet  here  I  am,  a  lost  soul ;  and  I  am  afraid  they 
will  have  as  little  effect  upon  them  as  they  had  upon  me. 
These  means  are  common  and  familiar,  and  therefore 
disregarded.  But  if  one  arose  from  the  dead,  if  an 
apostle  from  the  invisible  world  was  sent  to  them,  to  de- 
clare as  an  eye-witness  the  great  things  he  has  seen, 
surely  they  would  repent.  The  nov^elty  and  terror  of 
the  apparition  would  alarm  them.  Their  senses  would 
be  struck  with  so  unusual  a  messenger,  and  they  would 
be  convinced  of  the  reality  of  eternal  things  ;  therefore 
I  must  renew  my  request  ;  send  Lazarus  to  them  in  all 
the  pomp  of  heavenly  splendor  ;  Lazarus  whom  they 
once  knew  in  so  abject  a  condition,  and  whom  they  will 
therefore  the  more  regard,  when  they  see  him  appear  m 
all  his  present  glory." 

Thus  the  miserable  creature  pleads,  (and  it  is  natural 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  D 

for  us  to  wish  for  other  means,  when  those  we  have  en- 
joyed are  ineffectual,  though  it  should  be  through  our 
own  neglect  ;)  but,  alas  !  he  pleads  in  vain. 

Abraham  continues  inexorable,  and  gives  a  very  good 
reason  for  his  denial :  "  If  they  pay  no  regard  to  the 
vvritings  of  Moses  atid  the  prophets^  the  standing  revela- 
tion God  has  left  in  his  church,  it  would  be  to  no  pur- 
pose to  give  them  another  :  they  would  not  be  persuaded 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead  ;  the  same  disposition 
that  renders  them  deaf  to  such  messengers  as  Moses  and 
the  prophets^  would  also  render  them  impersuasible  by  a 
messenger  from  the  dead.  Such  an  one  might  strike 
them  with  a  panic,  but  it  would  soon  be  over,  and  then 
they  V  ould  return  to  their  usual  round  of  pleasures  ; 
they  would  presently  think  the  apparition  was  but  the 
creature  of  their  own  imagination,  or  some  unaccount- 
able illusion  of  their  senses.  If  one  arose  from  the 
dead,  he  could  but  declare  the  same  things  substantially 
with  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  and  he  could  not  speak 
with  greater  authority,  or  give  better  credentials  than 
they  ;  and  therefore  they  who  are  not  benefited  by  these 
standing  means  must  be  given  up  as  desperate  ;  and 
God,  for  very  good  reasons,  will  not  multiply  new  reve- 
lations to  them." 

This  answer  of  Abraham  was  exemplified  when  ano- 
ther Lazarus  was  raised  from  the  dead  in  the  very  sight 
of  the  Jews,  and  Christ  burst  the  bands  of  death,  and 
gave  them  incontestible  evidences  of  his  resurrection  ; 
and  yet  after  all  they  were  not  persuaded,  but  persisted 
in  invincible  infidelity. 

This  parable  was  spoken  before  any  part  of  the  Ncav 
Testament  was  written,  and  added  to  the  sacred  canon ; 
and  if  it  might  be  then  asserted,  that  the  standing  reve- 
lation of  God's  will  v/as  sufficient,  and  that  it  was  need- 
less to  demand  farther,  then  much  more  may  it  be  as- 
serted novv',  when  the  canon  of  the  scriptures  is  com- 
pleted, and  we  have  received  so  much  additional  light 
from  the  New  Testament.  We  have  not  only  Moses  and 
the  prophets^  but  we  have  also  Christ,  who  is  a  messenger 
from  the  dead,  and  his  apostles ;  and  therefore,  surely, 
"  if  we  do  not  hear  them,  neither  would  we  be  per- 
suaded, though  one  arose  from  the  dead."  The  gospel 
is  the  last    effort   of  the   grace  of  God  with  a  guilty 


b  THE    DIVIISE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIE^C"y 

world ;  and  if  this  has  no  effect  upon  us,  our  disease  is 
incurable  that  refuses  to  be  healed. 

I  cannot  insist  upon  all  the  important  truths  contained 
in  this  copious  text,  but  only  design, 

I.  To  show  the  sufficiency  of  the  standing  revelation 
of  God's  will  in  the  scriptures,  to  bring  men  to  repent 
ance  ;  and, 

II.  To  expose  the  vanity  and  unreasonableness  of  the 
objections  against  this  revelation,  and  of  demanding  an- 
other. 

I.  I  am  to  show  the  sufficiency  of  the  standing  rcA'ela- 
tion  in  the  scriptures  to  bring  men  to  repentance. 

If  the  scriptures  give  us  sufficient  instructions  in  mat- 
ters of  faith,  and  sufficient  directions  in  matters  of  prac- 
tice, if  they  are  attended  w^ith  sufficient  evidences  for 
our  faith,  and  produce  sufficient  excitements  to  influence 
our  practice,  then  they  contain  a  sufficient  revelation  ; 
for  it  is  for  these  purposes  Ave  need  a  revelation,  and  a 
revelation  that  answers  these  purposes  has  the  directest 
tendency  to  make  us  truly  religious,  and  bring  us  to  a 
happy  immortality.  But  that  the  revelation  in  the  scrip- 
tures, (particularly  in  the  New  Testament,  which  I  shall 
more  immediately  consider  as  being  the  immediate 
foundation  of  Christianity)  is  sufficient  for  all  these  pur- 
poses, will  be  evident  from  an  induction  of  particulars. 

1.  The  scriptures  give  us  sufficient  instructions  what 
we  should  believe,  or  are  a  sufficient  rule  of  faith. 

Religion  cannot  subsist  without  right  notions  of  God 
and  divine  things  ;  and  entire  ignorance  or  mistakes  in 
its  fundamental  articles  must  be  destructive  of  its  nature  ; 
and  therefore  a  divine  revelation  must  be  a  collection  of 
rays  of  light,  a  system  of  divine  knowledge  ;  and  suck 
we  find  the  Christian  revelation  to  be,  as  contained  in  the 
sacred  writings. 

In  the  scriptures  we  find  the  faint  discoveries  of  natu- 
ral reason  illustrated,  its  uncertain  conjectures  deter- 
mined, and  its  mistakes  corrected ;  so  that  Christianity 
includes  natural  religion  in  the  greatest  perfection.  But 
it  does  not  rest  here  ;  it  brings  to  light  things  which  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  the  heart  of  man  con- 
ceived,  1  Cor.  ii.  9 — things,  which  our  feeble  reason 
could  never  have  discovered  without  the  help  of  a  su 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    IlELIGION.  7 

pernatural  revelation  ;  and  which  yet  are  of  the  utmost 
importance  for  us  to  know. 

In  the  scriptures  we  have  the  clearest  and  most  ma- 
jestic account  of  the  nature  and  perfections  of  the  Deity, 
and  of  his  being  the  Creator,  Ruler,  and  Benefactor  of  the 
universe ;  to  whom  therefore  all  reasonable  beings  are 
under  infinite  obligations. 

In  the  scriptures  we  have  an  account  of  the  present 
state  of  human  nature,  as  degenerate,  and  a  more  ration- 
al and  easy  account  of  its  apostacy,  than  could  ever  be 
given  by  the  light  of  nature. 

In  the  scriptures  too  (which  wound  but  to  cure)  we 
have  the  welcome  account  of  a  method  of  recovery  from 
the  ruins  of  our  apostacy,  through  the  mediation  of  the 
Son  of  God ;  there  we  have  the  assurance,  which  we 
could  find  no  where  else,  that  God  is  reconcilable,  and 
willing  to  pardon  penitents  upon  the  account  of  the  obe- 
dience and  sufferings  of  Christ.  There  all  our  anxious 
inquiries,  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the  Lord ;  or 
how  myself  before  the  most  high  God  ?  shall  I  come  before  him 
with  burnt-offerings  ?  &c.  Micah.  vi.  6,  7,  are  satisfactorily 
answered  ;  and  there  the  agonizing  conscience  can  ob- 
tain relief,  which  might  have  sought  it  in  vain  among  all 
the  other  religions  in  the  world. 

In  the  scriptures  also,  eternity  and  the  invisible  worlds 
are  laid  open  to  our  view ;  and  "  life  and  immortality  are 
brought  to  light  by  the  gospel ;"  about  which  the  hea- 
then sages,  after  all  their  inquiries,  labored  under  uneasy 
suspicions.  There  we  are  assured  of  the  state  of  fu- 
ture rewards  and  punishments,  according  to  our  conduct 
in  this  state  of  probation ;  and  the  nature,  perfection, 
and  duration  of  the  happiness  and  misery,  are  described 
with  as  much  accuracy  as  are  necessary  to  engage  us  to 
seek  the  one  and  shun  the  other. 

I  particularize  these  doctrines  of  Christianity  as  a  sp*? 
cimen,  or  as  so  many  general  heads,  to  which  many 
others  may  be  reduced ;  not  intending  a  complete  enu- 
meration, which  would  lead  me  far  beyond  the  bounds 
of  one  sermon ;  and  for  which  my  whole  life  is  not  suffi- 
cient.    I  therefore  proceed  to  add, 

2.  The  holy  scriptures  give  us  complete  directions  in 
matters  of  practice,  or  a  sufficient  rule  of  life, 

A  divine  revelation  must  not  be  calculated  merely  to 


S  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

amuse  us,  and  gratify  our  curiosity  with  sublime  and  re- 
fined notions  and  speculations,  but  adapted  to  direct  and 
regulate  our  practice,  and  render  us  better  as  well  as 
wiser. 

Accordingly,  the  sacred  writings  give  us  a  complete 
system  of  practical  religion  and  morality.  There,  not 
only  all  the  duties  of  natural  religion  are  inculcated,  but 
several  important  duties,  as  love  to  our  enemies,  humili- 
ty, &c.  are  clearly  discovered,  which  the  feeble  light  of 
reason  in  the  heathen  moralists  did  either  not  perceive 
at  all,  or  but  very  faintly.  In  short,  there  we  are  in- 
formed of  our  duties  towards  God,  towards  our  neigh- 
bors, and  towards  ourselves.  The  scriptures  are  full  of 
particular  injunctions  and  directions  to  particular  duties, 
lest  we  should  not  be  sagacious  enough  to  infer  them 
from  general  rules  ;  and  sometimes  all  these  duties  are 
summed  up  in  some  short  maxim,  or  general  rule  ',  which 
we  may  easily  remember,  and  ahvays  carry  about  with 
us.  Such  a  noble  summary  is  that  which  Christ  has 
given  us  of  the  whole  moral  law  ;  "  Thou  shalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  occ.  and  thy  neighbor 
as  thyself."  Or  that  all-comprehending  rule  of  our  con- 
duct towards  one  another,  "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that 
men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  the  same  unto  them." 

What  recommends  these  doctrinal  instructions  and 
practical  directions  is,  that  they  are  plain  and  obvious  to 
common  sense.  It  is  as  much  the  concern  of  the  illite- 
rate and  vulgar  to  be  religious,  as  of  the  few  endowed 
Aviih  an  exalted  and  philosophic  genius  ;  and  consequent- 
ly, whatever  difficulties  may  be  in  a  revelation  to  exer- 
cise the  latter,  yet  all  necessary  matters  of  faith  and 
practice  must  be  delivered  in  a  plain  manner,  level  to  the 
capacities  of  the  former  ;  otherwise  it  would  be  no  reve- 
lation at  all  to  them  who  stand  in  most  need  of  it.  Ac- 
cordingly the  religion  of  Jesus,  though  it  has  mysteries 
equal  and  infinitely  superior  to  the  largest  capacity,  yet 
in  its  necessary  articles  is  intelligible  to  all  ranks  who 
apply  themselves  with  proper  diligence  to  the  perusal  of 
them  ;  and  I  dare  affirm,  that  a  man  of  common  sense, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  sacred  scriptures,  can  form  a 
better  system  of  religion  and  morality  than  the  wisest 
philosopher,  with  all  his  abilities  and  learning,  can  form 
without  this  help.    This  I  dare  affirm,  because  it  has  been 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  9 

put  to  trial,  and  attested  by  matter  of  fact ;  for  whoever 
is  acquainted  viith  the  writings  of  the  ancient  heathen 
philosophers,  cannot  but  be  convinced,  that  amidst  all 
their  learning  and  study,  amidst  all  their  shining  thoughts 
and  refined  speculations,  they  had  not  such  just  notions 
of  God  and  his  perfections,  of  the  most  acceptable  way 
of  worshiping  him,  of  the  duties  of  morality,  and  of  a 
future  state,  as  any  common  Christian  among  us  has 
learned  from  the  Scriptures,  without  any  uncommon 
natural  parts,  without  extensive  learning,  and  without 
such  painful  study  and  close  application  as  the  heathen 
moralists  were  forced  to  use  to  make  their  less  perfect 
discoveries.  In  this  sense  the  least  in  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  i.  e.  any  common  Christian,  is  greater  than  all 
the  Socrates,  the  Platos,  the  Ciceros,  and  the  Senecas 
of  antiquity ;  as  onet  hat  is  of  a  weak  sight  can  see 
more  clearly  by  the  help  of  day-light,  than  the  clearest 
eye  can  without  it. 

And  by  whom  was  this  vast  treasure  of  knowledge  laiu 
up  to  enrich  the  Vv'orld  ^.  by  whom  were  these  matchless 
writings  composed,  which  furnish  us  with  a  system  of  re- 
ligion and  morality  so  much  more  plain,  so  much  more 
perfect,  than  all  the  famous  sages  of  antiquity  could 
frame  1  Why,  to  our  astonishment,  they  were  composed 
by  a  company  of  fishermen,  or  persons  not  much  supe- 
rior ;  by  persons  generally  without  any  liberal  education  ; 
persons  who  had  not  devoted  their  lives  to  intellectual 
improvement ;  persons  of  no  extraordinary  natural  parts, 
and  who  had  not  traveled,  like  the  ancient  philosophers,  to 
gather  up  fragments  of  knowledge  in  different  countries, 
but  who  lived  in  Judea,  a  country  where  learning  was 
but  little  cultivated,  in  comparison  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
These  were  the  most  accomplished  teachers  of  mankind 
that  ever  appeared  in  the  world.  And  can  this  be  ac- 
counted for,  without  acknowledging  their  inspiration 
from  heaven  1  If  human  reason  could  have  made  such 
discoveries,  surely  it  would  have  made  them  by  those  in 
whom  it  was  improved  to  the  greatest  perfection,  and 
not  by  a  company  of  ignorant  mechanics. 

The  persons  themselves  declare  that  they  had  not 
made  these  discoveries,  but  were  taught  them  immedi- 
ately from  heaven,  (which  indeed  we  must  have  believed, 
though  they  had  not  told  us  so.)     Now  we  must  believe 


10  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

their  declaration,  and  own  them  inspired,  or  fall  into  this 
absurdity.  That  a  company  of  illiterate,  wicked,  and  dar- 
ing- impostors,  who  were  hardy  enough  to  pretend  them- 
selves commissioned  and  inspired  from  God,  have  fur- 
nished us  with  an  incomparably  more  excellent  system 
of  religion  and  virtue,  than  could  be  furnished  by  all  the 
wisest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  men  beside  ;  and  he  that 
can  believe  this  may  believe  anything  ;  and  should  never 
more  pretend  that  he  cannot  believe  the  Christian  reli- 
gion upon  the  account  of  the  difficulties  that  attend  it. 

I  have  touched  but  superficially  upon  the  sufficiency 
of  the  scriptures  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  practice  ;  for  to 
dwell  long  upon  this,  would  be  to  fight  without  an  anta- 
gonist. Our  infidels  reject  the  Christian  religion,  be- 
cause they  suppose  it  requires  them  to  believe  and  prac- 
tise too  much,  rather  than  too  little.  Hence  they  are  for 
lopping  off  a  great  part  of  its  doctrines  and  precepts,  as 
superfluities,  or  incumbrances,  and  forming  a  meagre 
skeleton  of  natural  religion.  Their  intellectual  pride  will 
not  stoop  to  believe  doctrines  which  they  cannot  com- 
prehend ;  and  they  cannot  bear  such  narrow  bounds  as 
the  precepts  of  Christianity  fixes  for  them  in  their  pur- 
suits of  pleasure,  and  therefore  they  would  break  these 
bands  asunder.  That  which  they  affect  most  to  complain 
of,  is  the  want  of  evidence  to  convince  them  of  the  truth 
of  this  ungrateful  religion  ;  it  will  therefore  be  necessary 
to  prove  more  largely,  that, 

3.  The  scriptures  are  attended  with  sufficient  eviden- 
ces of  their  truth  and  divinity. 

It  is  certain  that  as  God  can  accept  no  other  worship 
than  rational  from  reasonable  creatures,  he  cannot  re- 
quire us  to  believe  a  revelation  to  be  divine  withoutsuf- 
ficient  reason  ;  and  therefore,  when  he  gives  us  a  reve- 
lation, he  will  attest  it  with  such  evidences  as  will  be  a 
sufficient  foundation  of  our  belief. 

Accordingly  the  scriptures  are  attested  withall  the 
evidences  intrinsic  and  extrinsic,  which  we  can  reasona- 
bly desire,  and  with  all  the  evidences  the  nature  of  the 
thing  will  admit. 

As  for  intrinsic  evidences,  many  might  be  mentioned  ; 
but  I  must  at  present  confine  myself  in  proper  limits.  I 
shall  resume  the  one  I  have  already  hinted  at,  namely, 
that  the  religion  of  the  Bible  has  the  directest  tendency 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  11 

to  promote  true  piety  and  solid  virtue  in  the  world  ;  it 
is  such  a  religion  as  becomes  a  God  to  reveal ;  such  a 
religion  as  we  might  expect  from  him,  in  case  he  insti- 
tuted any  ;  a  religion  intended  and  adapted  to  regulate 
self-love,  and  to  diffuse  the  love  of  God  and  man  through 
the  world,  the  only  generous  principles  and  vigorous 
springs  of  a  suitable  conduct  towards  God,  towards  one 
another,  and  towards  ourselves  5  a  religion  productive 
of  every  humane,  social,  and  divine  virtue,  and  directly 
calculated  to  banish  all  sin  out  of  the  world  ;  to  trans- 
form impiety  into  devotion  ;  in  justice  and  oppression 
into  equity  and  universal  benevolence  ;  and  sensuality 
into  sobriety  :  a  religion  infinitely  preferable  to  any  that 
has  been  contrived  by  the  wisest  and  best  of  mortals. 
And  whence  do  you  think  could  this  god-like  religion 
proceed  \  Does  not  its  nature  prove  its  origin  divine  1 
Does  it  not  evidently  bear  the  lineaments  of  its  heavenly 
Parent  1  Can  you  once  imagine  that  such  a  pure,  such 
a  holy,  such  a  perfect  system,  could  be  the  contrivance 
of  wicked,  infernal  spirits,  of  selfish,  artful  priests,  or  po- 
liticians, or  of  a  parcel  of  daring  impostors,  or  wild  en- 
thusiasts 1  Could  these  contrive  a  religion  so  contrary 
to  their  inclination,  so  destructive  of  their  interest,  and 
so  directly  conducing  to  promote  the  cause  they  abhor  1 
[f  you  can  believe  this,  you  may  also  believe  that  light 
is  the  product  of  darkness,  virtue  of  vice,  good  of  evil, 
&c.  If  such  beings  as  these  had  contrived  a  religion, 
it  would  have  borne  the  same  appearance  in  the  Bible  as 
it  does  in  Italy  or  Spain,  where  it  is  degenerated  into  a 
mere  trade  for  the  benefit  of  tyrannical  and  voracious 
priests  ;  or  it  would  have  been  such  a  religion  as  that  of 
Mahomet,  alloAving  its  subjects  to  propagate  it  with  the 
sword,  that  they  might  enrich  themselves  with  the  plun- 
der of  conquered  nations  ;  and  indulging  them  in  the  gra- 
tification of  their  lusts,  particularly  in  polygamy,  or  the 
unbounded  enjoyment  of  women.  This  religion,  I  fear, 
would  suit  the  taste  of  our  licentious  free-thinkers  much 
better  than  the  holy  religion  of  Jesus.  Or  if  we  should 
suppose  Christianity  to  be  the  contrivance  of  visionary 
enthusiasts,  then  it  would  not  be  that  rational  system 
which  it  is,  but  a  huddle  of  fanatical  reveries  and  ridicu 
lous  whims.  If,  then,  it  could  not  be  the  contrivance  of 
such  authors  as  these,  to  whom  shall  we  ascribe  it  1     It 


12  THE    DIVINE    AUTHOEITY    A'ST)    SUPPICiEMCV 

must  have  had  some  author  ;  for  it  could  not  come  into 
being  without  a  cause,  no  more  than  the  system  of  the 
universe.  Will  you  then  ascribe  it  to  good  men  1  But 
these  men  were  either  inspired  from  heaven,  or  they 
were  not ;  if  they  were  not,  then  they  could  not  be  good 
men,  but  most  audacious  liars :  for  they  plainly  declar- 
ed, they  were  divinely  inspired,  and  stood  in  it  to  the 
last ;  which  no  good  man  would  do  if  such  a  declaration 
was  false.  If  they  were  inspired  from  heaven,  then  the 
point  is  gained  ;  then  Christianity  is  a  religion  from 
God ;  for  to  receive  a  religion  from  persons  divinely  in- 
spired, and  to  receive  it  from  God,  is  the  same  thing. 

Another  intrinsic  evidence  is  that  of  prophecy. 

Those  future  events  which  are  contingent,  or  wdiich 
shall  be  accomplished  by  causes  that  do  not  now  exist  or 
appear,  cannot  be  certainly  foreknown  or  foretold  by 
man,  as  we  find  by  our  oa\ti  experience.  Such  objects 
fall  within  the  compass  of  Omniscience  only  ;  and  there- 
fore when  short-sighted  mortals  are  enabled  to  predict 
such  events  many  years,  and  even  ages  before  they  hap- 
pen, it  is  a  certain  evidence  that  they  are  let  into  the 
secrets  of  heaven,  and  that  God  communicates  to  them 
a  knowledge  which  cannot  be  acquired  by  the  most  sa- 
gacious human  mind  ;  and  this  is  an  evidence  that  the 
persons  thus  divinely  taught  are  the  messengers  of  God, 
to  declare  his  will  to  the  world. 

Now  there  are  numberless  instances  of  such  prophe- 
cies in  the  sacred  v/ritings.  Tiuis  a  prophet  foretold  the 
destruction  of  Jeroboam's  altar  by  the  good  Josiah, 
many  ages  before,  1  Kings  xiii.  2.  Cyrus  was  foretold 
by  name  as  the  restorer  of  the  Jews  from  Babylon,  to  re- 
build their  temple  and  city,  about  a  hundred  years  be- 
fore he  was  born,  Isaiah  xlv.  1,  &c.  Several  of  the  pro- 
phets foretold  the  destruction  of  various  kingdoms  in  a 
very  punctual  manner,  as  of  Jerusalem,  Babylon,  Egypt, 
Nineveh,  &c.  vv^hich  prediction  was  exactly  fulfilled.  But 
the  most  remarkable  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament 
are  those  relating  to  the  Messiah ;  which  are  so  nume- 
rous and  full,  that  they  might  serve  for  materials  for  his 
history  j  they  fix  the  time  of  his  coming,  viz.  while  the 
sceptre  continued  in  Judah,  Gen.  xlix,  10,  while  the 
second  temple  was  yet  standing,  Hag.  ii,  7,  Mai.  iii.  2, 
and  towards  the  close  of  Daniel's  neventy  weeks  of  years 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  13 

i.  e.  four  hundred  and  ninety  years  from  the  rebuilding 
of  Jerusalem,  Dan.  ix.  24-,  &c.  These  prophecies  also 
describe  the  Uneage  of  the  Messiali,  the  manner  of  his 
conception,  his  hfe  and  miracles,  his  death,  and  the  va- 
rious circumstances  of  it ;  his  resurrection,  ascension, 
and  advancement  to  universal  empire,  and  the  spread  of 
the  gospel  through  the  world.  In  the  New  Testament 
also  we  meet  with  sundry  remarkable  prophecies.  There 
Christ  foretels  his  own  death,  and  the  manner  of  it,  and 
his  triumphant  resurrection  ;  there,  with  surprising  ac- 
curacy, he  predicts  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  the 
Romans.  We  find  various  prophecies  also  in  the  apos- 
tolic epistles,  particularly  that  of  St.  Paul,  Rom.  xi.,  con- 
cerning the  conversion  of  the  Jews  ;  which,  though  it  be 
not  yet  accomplished,  yet  we  see  a  remarkable  provi- 
dence making  way  for  it,  in  keeping  the  Jews,  v/ho  are 
scattered  over  all  the  earth,  distinct  from  all  other  na- 
tions for  about  one  thousand  seven  hundred  years, 
though  they  are  hated  of  all  nations,  and  consequently 
under  the  strongest  temptation  to  coalesce  with,  and  lose 
themselves  among  them  ;  and  though  all  other  nations 
have  in  a  much  shorter  time  mixed  in  such  a  manner, 
that  none  of  them  can  now  trace  their  o\vn  original ; 
e.  g.  who  can  now  distinguish  the  posterity  of  the 
ancient  Romans  from  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  and  others 
that  broke  in  upon  their  empire  and  settled  among  them  ; 
or  of  the  ancient  Angli  from  the  Danes,  &;c.  that  min- 
gled with  them  1 

These  and  many  other  plain  predictions  are  interspers- 
ed through  the  Scriptures,  and  prove  their  original  to  be 
from  the  Father  of  lights,  who  alone  knov/s  all  his  works 
from  the  beginning,  and  who  declares  such  distant  con- 
t'jigent  futurities  from  ancient  times.     Isaiah  xlv.  21. 

I  might,  as  another  intrinsic  evidence  of  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  mention  its  glorious  energy  on  the  minds 
of  men,  in  convincing  them  of  sin,  easing  their  con- 
sciences, inspiring  them  with  unspeakable  joy,  subduing 
their  lusts,  and  transforming  them  into  its  own  likeness  j 
which  is  attested  by  the  daily  experience  of  every  true 
Christian.  Every  one  that  believeth  hath  this  witness  in 
himself :  and  this  is  an  evidence  level  to  the  mjeanest 
capacity,  which  may  be  soon  lost  in  the  course  of  sub- 
Jime  reasoning.  But  as  the  deists  declare,  alas !  with 
2 


l^  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

^00  much  truth,  that  the  gospel  hath  no  such  power  upon 
^hem,  it  is  not  to  my  purpose  to  insist  upon  it. 

I  therefore  proceed  to  mention  some  of  the  extrinsic 
evidences  of  the  rehgion  of  Jesus,  particularly  the  mira- 
«2ies  with  which  it  was  confirmed,  and  its  early  propaga- 
tion through  the  world. 

Miracles  of  this  case  are  events  above  or  contrary  to 
the  established  law  of  nature,  done  with  a  professed  de- 
sign to  attest  a  revelation  ;  and  as  they  are  obvious  and 
striking  to  the  senses  of  the  most  ignorant  and  unthink 
ing,  they  are  the  most  popular  and  convictive  evidences, 
adapted  to  the  generality  of  mankind,  who  are  incapable 
of  a  long  train  of  argumentation,  or  of  perceiving  the 
origin  of  a  religion  from  its  nature  and  tendency. 

Now  the  religion  of  Jesus  is  abundantly  attested  with 
this  kind  of  evidence.  The  history  of  the  life  of  Jesus 
and  his  apostles  is  one  continued  series  of  miracles. 
Sight  was  restored  to  the  blind,  the  deaf  were  enabled  to 
hear,  the  lame  to  walk,  the  maimed  furnished  with  new- 
created  limbs,  the  sick  healed,  the  rage  of  winds  and 
seas  controlled,  yea,  the  dead  were  raised  ;  and  all  this 
with  an  air  of  sovereignty,  such  as  became  a  God  :  the 
apostles  were  also  endowed  with  miraculous  powers,  en- 
abled to  speak  with  tongues,  and  to  communicate  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  others.  These  miracles  were  done  not  in 
a  corner,  but  in  the  most  public  places,  before  numerous 
spectators,  friends  and  foes :  and  the  persons  that 
^vrought  them  appealed  to  them  as  the  evidences  of  their 
divine  mission  :  and  the  account  of  them  is  conveyed 
doAvn  to  us  by  the  best  medium,  written  tradition,  in  a 
history  that  bears  all  the  evidences  of  credibility,  of 
which  any  composition  of  that  kind  is  capable. 

Another  extrinsic  evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity 
is  its  extensive  propagation  through  the  world  in  the 
most  unpromising  circumstances. 

The  only  religion,  besides  the  Christian,  which  has 
had  any  very  considerable  spread  in  the  world,  is  that 
of  Mahomet ;  but  we  may  easily  account  for  this,  with- 
out supposing  it  divine,  from  its  nature,  as  indulging  the 
lusts  of  men  ;  and  especially  from  the  manner  of  its  pro- 
pagation, not  by  the  force  of  evidence,  but  by  the  force 
of  arms.  But  the  circumstances  of  the  propagation  of 
Christianity  were  quite   otherwise,  whether  we  consider 


OF    THE    CHKISTIAN    RELIGION  15 

its  contrariety  to  the  corruptions,  prejudices,  and  inter- 
ests of  men  ;  the  easiness  of  detecting  it,  had  it  been 
false  ;  the  violent  opposition  it  met  with  from  all  the 
powers  of  the  earth ;  the  instruments  of  its  propagation  j 
or  the  measures  they  took  for  that  purpose. 

Christianity  is  directly  contrary  to  the  corruptions, 
prejudices,  and  interests  of  mankind.  It  grants  no  in- 
dulgence to  the  corrupt  propensities  of  a  degenerate 
world  'y  but  requires  that  universal  holiness  of  heart  and 
life  which,  as  we  find  by  daily  observation,  is  so  ungrate- 
ful to  them,  and  which  is  the  principal  reason  that  the 
religion  of  Jesus  meets  vjith  so  much  contempt  and  op- 
position in  every  age. 

When  Christianity  was  first  propagated,  all  nations 
had  been  educated  in  some  other  religion  ;  the  Jews 
were  attached  to  Moses,  and  the  Gentiles  to  their  vari- 
ous systems  of  heathenism,  and  were  all  of  them  very 
zealous  for  their  o\vn  religion  ;  but  Christianity  proposed 
a  new  scheme,  and  could  not  take  place  without  anti- 
quating  or  exploding  all  other  religions ;  and  therefore 
it  was  contrary  to  the  inveterate  prejudices  of  all  man- 
kind, and  could  never  have  been  so  generally  received, 
if  it  had  not  brought  with  it  the  most  evident  creden- 
tials ;  especially  considering  that  some  of  its  doctrines 
were  such  as  seemed  to  the  Jew^s  a  stumbling-block,  and 
to  the  Greeks  foolishness  ;  particularly  that  one  of  ob- 
scure birth  and  low  life,  w^ho  was  publicly  executed  as  a 
slave  and  malefactor,  should  be  worshiped  and  honored  as 
God,  upon  pain  of  everlasting  damnation  ;  and  that  there 
should  be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead :  the  last  of  w^hich 
was  an  object  of  ridicule  to  all  the  wits  and  philosophers 
of  the  heathen  world.  Again,  as  some  religion  or  other 
was  established  in  all  nations,  there  were  many,  like  De- 
metrius and  his  craftsmen,  w^hose  temporal  livings  and 
interest  depended  upon  the  continuance  of  their  religion ; 
and  if  that  was  changed,  they  fell  into  poverty  and  dis- 
grace. There  was  a  powerful  party  in  every  nation,  and 
they  w^ould  exert  themselves  to  prevent  the  spread  of  an 
innovation  so  dangerous  toJ;heir  interest,  which  we  find 
by  all  histories  of  those  times  they  actually  did  : — and 
yet  the  despised  religion  of  Jesus  triumphed  over  all 
their  opposition,  and  maintained  its  credit  in  spite  of  all 


16  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

their  endeavors  to  detect  it  as  an  imposture  ;  and  this 
proves  it  was  not  an  imposture  ;  for, 

In  the  next  place,  it  was  easy  to  have  detected  Christi- 
anity as  an  imposture,  nay,  it  was  impossible  it  should 
not  have  been  detected,  if  it  had  been  such ;  for  the 
great  facts  upon  which  the  evidence  of  it  rested,  were 
said  to  be  obvioas  and  public,  done  before  thousands  and 
in  all  countries  ;  for  wherever  the  apostles  traveled  they 
carried  their  miraculous  powers  along-  with  them.  Thou- 
sands must  know  whether  Christ  had  fed  many  thousands 
with  provisions  only  sufficient  for  a  few ;  whether  Laza- 
rus was  raised  from  the  dead  before  the  admiring  multi- 
tude, whether  the  apostles  spoke  with  tongues  to  those 
various  nations  among  whom  they  endeavored  to  propa- 
gate their  religion,  (as  indeed  they  must  have  done, 
otherwise  they  would  not  have  been  understood.)  These 
things,  and  many  others,  upon  which  the  evidence  of 
Christianity  depends,  were  public  in  their  own  nature  ; 
and  therefore,  if  they  had  not  been  matters  of  fact,  the 
cheat  must  have  been  unavoidably  detected,  especially 
when  so  many  were  concerned  to  detect  it. 

Farther :  Christianity  met  with  the  most  strenuous 
opposition  from  all  the  powers  of  the  earth.  The  Jew- 
ish rulers  and  most  of  the  populace  were  implacable 
enemies ;  and  as  they  lived  on  the  spot  where  its  mira- 
culous attestations  were  said  to  be  given,  it  Avas  in  their 
power  to  crush  it  in  its  birth,  and  never  have  suffered  it 
to  spread  farther,  had  it  not  been  attended  with  invinci- 
ble evidence.  All  the  power  of  the  Roman  empire  was 
also  exerted  for  its  extirpation  ;  and  its  propagators  and 
disciples  could  expect  no  profit  or  pleasure  by  it,  but 
were  assured,  from  the  posture  of  afTairs,  from  daily  ex- 
perience, and  from  the  predictions  of  their  Master,  that 
they  should  meet  with  shame,  persecution,  and  death  it- 
self, in  its  most  tremendous  shapes  j  and  in  the  next 
world  they  could  expect  nothing,  even  according  to  their 
own  doctrine,  but  everlasting  damnation,  if  they  were 
wilful  impostors  ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  all  these  discour- 
agements, they  courageousl;^  persisted  in  their  testimo- 
ny to  the  last,  though  they  might  have  secured  their 
lives,  and  helped  their  fortune  (as  Judas  did)  by  retrac- 
ing it ;  nay,  their  testimony  prevailed,  in  defiance  of  all 
opposition  ;  multitudes  in  all  nations  then  known  em* 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGIOJN^.  17 

braced  the  faith  ;  though  they  expected  tortures  and 
death  for  it ;  and  in  a  few  centuries,  the  vast  and  mighty- 
Roman  empire  submitted  to  the  religion  of  a  crucified 
Jesus.  And  who  were  those  mighty  heroes  that  thus 
triumphed  over  the  world  1  Why,  to  our  surprise, 

The  instruments  of  the  propagation  of  Christianity 
were  a  company  of  poor  mechanics,  publicans,  tent- 
makers,  and  fishermen,  from  the  despised  nation  of  the 
Jews !  And  by  what  strange  powers  or  arts  did  they 
make  these  extensive  conquests  1 

The  measures  they  took  were  a  plain  declaration  of 
their  religion ;  and  they  wrought  miracles  for  its  con- 
firmation. They  did  not  use  the  power  of  the  sword, 
nor  secular  terrors,  or  bribery  ;  they  were  without  learn- 
ing, Avithout  the  arts  of  reasoning  and  persuasion ;  and 
without  all  the  usual  artifices  of  seducers  to  gain  credit 
to  their  imposture. 

Here  I  cannot  but  take  particular  notice  of  that  match- 
less simplicity  that  appears  in  the  history  of  Christ  and 
his  apostles.  The  evangelists  Avrite  in  that  artless,  calm, 
and  unguarded  manner,  which  is  natural  to  persons  con- 
fident of  the  undeniable  truth  of  what  they  assert ;  they 
do  not  write  with  that  scrupulous  caution  which  would 
argue  any  fear  that  they  might  be  confuted.  They  sim- 
ply relate  the  naked  facts,  and  leave  them  to  stand  upon 
their  own  evidence.  They  relate  the  most  amazing,  the 
most  moving  things,  with  the  most  cool  serenity,  \yith- 
out  any  passionate  exclamations  and  warm  reflections. 
For  example,  they  relate  the  most  astonishing  miracles, 
as  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus,  in  the  most  simple,  and, 
as  it  were,  careless  manner,  without  breaking  out  and 
celebrating  the  divine  power  of  Christ.  In  the  same 
manner  they  relate  the  most  tragical  circumstances  of 
his  condemnation  and  death,  calmly  mentioning  matter 
of  fact,  without  any  invectives  against  the  Jews,  without 
any  high  eulogies  upon  Christ's  innocence,  without  any 
apturous  celebrations  of  his  grace  in  suffering  all  these 
things  for  sinners,  and  without  any  tender  lamentations 
over  their  deceased  Master.  It  is  impossible  for  a  heart 
so  deeply  impressed  with  such  things,  as  theirs  undoubt- 
edly were,  to  retain  this  dispassionate  serenity,  unless 
laid  under  supernatural  restraints ;  and  there  appears 
very  good  reasons  for  this  restraint  upon  them,^iz.j  that 
2* 


18  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

the  gospel  liistory  might  carry  intrinsic  evidences  of  its 
simplicity  and  artless  impartiality;  and  that  it  might 
appear  adapted  to  convince  the  judgments  of  men,  and 
not  merely  to  raise  their  passions.  In  this  respect,  the 
gospel-history  is  distinguished  from  all  histories  in  the 
world  :  and  can  we  think  so  plain,  so  undisguised,  so 
artless  a  composure,  the  contrivance  of  designing  im- 
postors 1  Would  not  a  consciousness  that  they  might 
be  detected  keep  them  more  upon  their  guard,  and  make 
them  more  ready  to  anticipate  and  confine  objections, 
and  take  every  artifice  to  recommend  their  cause,  and 
prepossess  the  reader  in  its  favor  1 

It  only  remains  under  this  head,  that  I  should 

4.  Show  that  the  religion  of  Jesus  proposes  suffi- 
cient excitements  to  mfluence  our  faith  and  practice. 

To  enforce  a  system  of  doctrines  and  precepts,  two 
things  are  especially  necessary  ;  that  they  should  be 
made  duty  by  competent  authority,  and  matters  of  inte- 
rest by  a  sanction  of  rewards  and  punishments.  To 
which  I  may  add,  that  the  excitements  are  still  stronger, 
when  we  are  laid  under  the  gentle  obligations  of  grati- 
tude. In  all  these  respects  the  Christian  religion  has  the 
most  powerful  enforcements. 

The  authority  upon  which  we  are  required  to  receive 
the  doctrines,  and  observe  the  precepts  of  Christianity, 
is  no  less  than  the  authority  of  God,  the  supreme  Law- 
giver and  infallible  Teacher  ;  whose  wisdom  to  pre- 
scribe, and  right  to  command,  are  indisputable  ;  and  we 
may  safely  submit  our  understandings  to  his  instruc- 
tions, however  mysterious,  and  our  wills  to  his  injunc- 
tions, however  difficult  they  may  seem  to  us.  This 
gives  the  religion  of  Jesus  a  binding  authority  upon  the 
consciences  of  men ;  which  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
bring  piety  and  virtue  into  practice  in  the  world  ;  for  if 
men  are  left  at  liberty,  they  will  follow  their  own  incli 
nations,  however  wicked  and  pernicious.  And  in  this 
respect,  Christianity  bears  a  glorious  preference  to  all 
the  systems  of  morality  composed  by  the  heathen  philo- 
sophers ;  for  though  there  were  many  good  things  in 
them,  yet  who  gave  authority  to  Socrates,  Plato,  or  Se 
neca,  to  assume  the  province  of  lawgivers,  and  dictators 
to  mankind,  and  prescribe  to  their  consciences  1  All 
they  could  do  was  to  teach,  to  advise,  to  persuade,  tc 


OF   THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  19 

reason  ;  but  mankind  were  at  liberty,  after  all,  whether 
to  take  their  advice  or  not.  And  this  shows  the  neces- 
sity of  supernatural  revelation,  not  merely  to  make 
kno\\Ti  things  beyond  human  apprehension,  but  to  en- 
force with  proper  authority  such  duties  as  might  be  dis- 
covered by  man  ;  since  without  it  they  would  not  have 
the  binding  force  of  a  law. 

As  to  the  sanction  of  rewards  and  punishments  in 
Christianity,  they  are  such  as  became  a  God  to  annex  to 
his  majestic  law,  such  as  are  agreeable  to  creatures 
formed  for  immortality,  and  such  as  Avould  have  the 
most  effectual  tendency  to  encourage  obedience,  and 
prevent  sin ;  they  are  no  less  than  the  most  perfect  hap- 
piness and  misery,  which  human  nature  is  capable  of, 
and  that  through  an  endless  duration.  If  these  are  not 
sufficient  to  allure  rational  creatures  to  obedience,  then 
no  considerations  that  can  be  proposed  can  have  any 
effect.  These  tend  to  alarm  our  hopes  and  our  fears, 
the  most  vigorous  springs  of  human  activity:  and  if 
these  have  no  efTect  upon  us,  nothing  that  God  can  re- 
veal, or  our  minds  conceive,  will  have  any  effect.  God, 
by  adding  the  greatest  sanctions  possible  to  his  law,  has 
taken  the  best  possible  precautions  to  prevent  disobe- 
dience ;  and  since  even  these  do  not  restrain  men  from 
it,  we  are  sure  that  less  would  not  suffice.  If  men  will 
go  on  in  sin,  though  they  believe  the  punishment  due  to 
it  will  be  eternal,  then  much  more  would  they  persist  in 
it,  if  it  were  not  eternal ;  or,  if  they  say  they  will  in- 
dulge themselves  in  sin,  because  they  believe  it  not 
eternal,  then  this  proves  from  their  own  mouth,  that  it 
should  be  eternal  in  order  to  restrain  them.  The  pre- 
valence of  sin  in  the  world  tends  to  render  it  miserable  ; 
and  therefore,  to  prevent  it,  as  well  as  to  display  God's 
eternal  regard  to  moral  goodness,  it  is  fit  that  he  should 
annex  the  highest  degree  of  punishment  to  disobedience 
in  every  individual ;  for  the  indulgence  of  sin  in  one  in- 
dividual would  be  a  temptation  to  the  whole  rational 
creation  j  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  threatenings  of 
everlasting  punishment  to  all  sinners  indefinitely,  is  ne- 
cessary to  deter  the  whole  rational  world,  and  every 
particular  person  from  disobedience.  Thus  in  civil 
government,  it  is  necessary  that  robbery  should  be 
threatened  indefinitely  with  death,  because,  though  one 


.20  THE    DIVINE    AUTHOKITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

robber  may  take  from  a  man  but  what  he  can  very  well 
spare  ;  yet,  if  every  man  might  rob  and  plunder  his 
neighbor,  the  consequence  would  be  universal  robbery 
and  confusion.  It  is  therefore  necessary  that  the  great- 
est punishment  should  be  threatened  to  disobedience, 
both  to  prevent  it,  and  to  testify  the  divine  displeasure 
against  it ;  which  is  the  primary  design  of  the  threaten- 
ing ;  and  since  the  penalty  was  annexed  with  this  view, 
it  follows,  that  it  was  primarily  enacted  with  a  view  to 
the  happiness  of  mankind,  by  preventing  what  would 
naturally  make  them  miserable,  and  but  secondarily  with 
a  view  to  be  executed ;  for  it  is  to  be  executed  only 
upon  condition  of  disobedience  ;  which  disobedience  it 
w^as  intended  to  prevent,  and  consequently  it  was  not 
immediately  intended  to  be  executed,  or  enacted  for  the 
Rake  of  the  execution,  as  though  God  took  a  malignant 
pleasure  in  the  misery  of  his  creatures.  But  when  the 
penalty  has  failed  of  its  primary  end,  restraining  from 
sin,  then  it  is  fit  it  should  answer  its  secondary  end,  and 
be  executed  upon  the  offender,  to  keep  the  rest  of  rea- 
sonable creatures  in  their  obedience,  to  illustrate  the  ve 
racity  and  holiness  of  the  lawgiver,  and  prevent  his  gov 
ernment  from  falling  into  contempt.  There  are  the  same 
reasons  that  threatenings  should  be  executed  when  de- 
nounced, as  for  their  being  denounced  at  first  5  for 
threatenings  never  executed,  are  the  same  with  no 
threatenings  at  all. 

Let  me  add,  that  the  gospel  lays  us  under  the  strongest 
obligations  from  gratitude.  It  not  only  clearly  informs 
us  of  our  obligations  to  God,  as  the  author  of  our  being, 
and  all  our  temporal  blessings,  which  natural  religion 
more  faintly  discovers,  but  superadds  those  more  endear- 
ing ones  derived  from  the  scheme  of  man's  redemption 
through  the  death  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God.  Though 
the  blessings  of  creation  and  providence  are  great  in 
themselves,  they  are  swallowed  up,  as  it  were,  and  lost 
ill  the  love  of  God  ;  which  is  commended  to  us  by  this 
matchless  circumstance,  "  that  while  we  were  yet  sin 
ners,  Christ  died  for  us  ;"  and  while  under  the  con- 
straints of  this  love,  we  cannot  but  devote  ourselves  en 
tirely  to  God,  2  Cor.  v.  14,  15. 

Thus  I  have  hinted  at  a  few  things  among  the  many 
that  might  be  mentioned  to  prove  the  divinity  of  the  re- 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  21 

ligion  of  Jesus,  and  its  sufficiency  to  bring  men  to  re- 
pentance and  salvation.  And  if  it  be  so,  why  should  it 
be  rejected,  or  another  sought  1  This  reminds  me  that 
I  promised, 

II.  To  expose  the  vanity  and  unreasonableness  of  the 
objection  against  the  Christian  religion,  or  of  demanding 
another,  &c. 

What  can  our  ingenious  infidels  ofTer  against  what  has 
been  said  1  It  must  be  something  very  weighty  indeed 
to  preponderate  all  this  evidence.  A  laugh,  or  a  sneer, 
a  pert  witticism,  declaiming  against  priestcraft  and  the 
prejudices  of  education,  artful  evasions,  and  shallow  so- 
phisms, the  usual  arguments  of  our  pretended  free- 
thinkers, these  will  not  suffice  to  banter  us  out  of  our 
joyful  confidence  of  the  divinity  of  the  religion  of  Je- 
sus ;  and  I  may  add,  these  will  not  suffice  to  indemnify 
them.  Nothing  will  be  suflicient  for  this  but  demonstra- 
tion :  it  lies  upon  them  to  prove  the  Christian  religion  to 
be  certainly  false  :  otherwise,  unless  they  are  hardened 
to  a  prodigy,  they  must  be  racked  with  anxious  fears  lest 
they  should  find  it  true  to  their  cost ;  and  lest  that  dis- 
mal threatening  should  stand  firm  against  them  :  "  He 
that  believefh  not^  shall  be  damned.''''  What  mighty  objec- 
tions, then,  have  they  to  offer  \  Will  they  say  that  the 
Christian  religion  contains  mysterious  doctrines,  which 
they  cannot  comprehend,  which  seem  to  them  unac- 
countable 1  As  that  of  the  trinity,  the  incarnation,  and 
satisfaction  of  Christ,  &c.  But  will  they  advance  their 
understanding  to  be  the  universal  standard  of  truth  1 
Will  they  pretend  to  comprehend  the  infinite  God,  in 
their  finite  minds  1  then  let  them-  go,  and  measure  the 
heavens  with  a  span,  and  comprehend  the  ocean  in  the 
hollow  of  their  hand.  Will  they  pretend  to  understand 
the  divine  nature,  when  they  cannot  understand  their 
o^\^l  1  when  they  cannot  account  for  or  explain  the  union 
betwixt  their  own  souls  and  bodies  %  Will  they  reject 
mysteries  in  Christianity,  when  they  must  own  them  in 
every  thing  else  1  Let  them  first  solve  all  the  phenomena 
in  nature  ;  let  them  give  us  a  rational  theory  of  the  in- 
finite divisibility  of  a  piece  of  finite  matter  ;  let  them  ac- 
count for  the  seemingly  magical  operation  of  the  load- 
stone ;  the  circulation  of  the  blood  upwards  as  well  as 
downwards,  contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  motion  ;  let  them 


22  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

inform  us  of  the  causes  of  the  cohesion  of  the  particles 
of  matter  ;  let  them  tell  us,  how  spirits  can  receive  ideas 
from  material  organs  ;  how  they  hear  and  see,  &c. :  let 
them  give  us  intelligible  theories  of  these  things,  and 
then  they  may,  with  something  of  a  better  grace,  set  up 
for  critics  upon  God  and  his  ways  5  but,  while  they  are 
mysteries  to  themselves,  while  every  particle  of  matter 
bajflles  their  understandings,  it  is  the  most  impious  in- 
tellectual pride  to  reject  Christianity  upon  the  account 
of  its  mysteries,  and  set  up  themselves  as  the  supreme 
judges  of  truth. 

Or  will  they  object  that  there  are  a  great  many  diffi- 
cult and  strange  passages  in  scripture,  the  meaning  and 
propriety  of  which  they  do  not  see  1  And  are  there  not 
many  strange  things  in  the  book  of  nature,  and  the  ad- 
ministration of  Providence,  the  design  and  use  of  which 
they  cannot  see,  many  things  that  to  them  seem  wrong 
and  ill-contrived  1  Yet  they  own  the  world  was  created 
by  God,  and  that  his  providence  rules  it  :  and  why  will 
they  not  allow  that  the  Scriptures  may  be  from  God,  not- 
withstanding these  difficulties  and  seeming  incongrui- 
ties 1  When  a  learned  man  can  easily  raise  his  discourse 
above  the  capacity  of  common  people,  will  they  not  con- 
descend to  grant  that  an  infinite  God  can  easily  overshaot 
their  little  souls  1  Indeed  a  revelation  which  we  could 
fully  comprehend,  v»'Ould  not  appear  the  production  of  an 
infinite  mind  5  it  would  bear  no  resemblance  to  its  hea- 
venly Father  ;  and  therefore  we  should  have  reason  to 
suspect  it  spurious.  It  is  necessary  we  should  meet  with 
difficulties  in  the  scriptures  to  mortify  our  pride.  But 
farther,  will  they  make  no  allowance  for  the  diffisrent 
customs  and  practices  of  different  ages  1  It  is  certain, 
that  may  be  proper  and  graceful  in  one  age  which  would 
be  ridiculous  and  absurd  in  another  ;  and  since  the  scrip- 
tures were  written  so  many  years  ago,  we  may  safely 
make  this  allowance  for  them,  which  will  remove  many 
seeming  absurdities.  There  should  also  allowance  be 
made  for  the  scriptures  being  rendered  iterally  out  of 
dead  difficult  languages  ;  for  we  know  that  many  expres- 
sions may  be  beautiful  and  significant  in  one  language, 
which  would  be  ridiculous  and  nonsensical  if  literally 
translated  into  another.  Were  Homer  or  Virgil  thua 
translated  into  English,  without  regard  to  the  idiom  of 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  »  23 

the  lanf^uage,  instead  of  admiring  their  beauties,  we 
should  be  apt  to  think  (as  Cowley  expresses  it)  "  that 
one  madman  had  translated  another  madman  " 

Will  they  object  the  wicked  lives  of  its  professors 
against  the  holiness  and  good  tendency  of  Christianity 
itself  1  But  is  it  Christianity,  as  practised  in  tiie  world, 
or  Christianity  as  taught  by  Christ  and  his  apostles,  and 
continued  in  the  Bible,  that  I  am  proving  to  be  divine  I 
You  know  it  is  the  latter,  and  consequently  the  poor  ap- 
pearance it  makes  in  the  former  sense,  is  no  argument 
against  its  purity  and  divinity  in  this.  Again,  are  the 
bad  lives  of  professors  taught  and  enjoined  by  genuine 
Christianity,  and  agreeable  to  it  1  No  ;  they  are  quite 
contrary  to  it,  and  subversive  of  it ;  and  it  is  so  far  from 
encouraging  such  professors,  that  it  pronounces  them 
miserable  hypocrites  ;  and  their  doom  will  be  more  se- 
vere than  that  of  heathens.  Again,  are  there  not  hypo- 
critical professors  of  morality  and  natural  religion,  as 
well  as  of  revealed  1  Are  there  not  many  who  cry  up 
morality  and  religion  of  nature,  and  yet  boldly  violate  its 
plainest  precepts  1  If  therefore  this  be  a  sufficient  ob- 
jection against  Christianity,  it  must  be  so  too  against 
all  religion.  Further  :  do  men  grow  better  by  renounc- 
ing the  religion  of  Jesus  1  Observation  assures  us  quite 
the  contrary.  Finally,  are  there  not  some  of  the  professors 
of  Christianity  who  live  habitually  according  to  it  1  who 
give  us  the  best  patterns  of  piety  and  virtue  that  ever 
were  exhibited  to  the  world  1  This  is  sufficient  to  vin- 
dicate the  religion  they  profess,  and  it  is  highly  injurious 
to  involve  such  promiscuously  in  the  odium  and  con- 
tempt due  to  barefaced  hypocrites.  How  would  this  rea- 
soning please  the  deists  themselves  in  parallel  cases  1 
*'  Some  that  have  no  regard  to  Christianity  have  been 
murderers,  thieves,  &c.  therefore  all  that  disregard  it  are 
such."  Or  "  some  that  pretended  to  be  honest,  have 
been  found  villains  ;  therefore  all  that  pretend  to  it  are 
such  ;  or  therefore  honesty  is  no  virtue." 

Or  w411  they  change  the  note,  and  instead  of  pleading 
that  Christianity  leads  to  licentiousness,  object  that  it 
bears  too  hard  upon  the  pleasures  of  mankind,  and  lays 
them  under  too  severe  restraints  1  Or  that  its  penalties 
are  excessive  and  cruel  1  But  does  it  rob  mankind  of 
•\ny  pleasures  worthy  the  rational  nature,  worthy  the  pur- 


24  THE    DIVINE    AUTHORITY    ArvD    SUFFICIENCY 

suit  of  creatures  formed  for  immortality,  ai^d  consistent 
with  the  good  of  the  whole  1  It  restrains  them  indeed  ; 
but  it  is  only  as  a  physician  restrains  his  patient  from 
poison  or  any  improper  regimen  ;  it  restrains  men  from 
living  like  beasts  ;  it  restrains  them  from  those  pleasures 
which  will  ruin  their  souls  and  bodies  in  the  event ;  it 
restrains  them  from  gratifying  a  private  passion  at  the 
expense  of  the  public  ;  in  short,  it  restrains  them  from 
making  themselves  and  others  miserable.  Hard  restraint 
indeed  !  and  the  deists,  to  be  sure,  are  generous  patrons 
of  human  liberty,  who  would  free  us  from  such  griev- 
ances as  these  !  However,  this  objection  lets  us  into  the 
secret,  and  informs  us  of  the  reason  why  our  pretended 
free-thinkers  are  such  enemies  to  Christianity  ;  it  is  be- 
cause it  checks  their  lusts,  and  will  not  permit  them  to 
act,  as  well  as  to  think  freely,  i.  e.  as  they  please.  If 
they  would  content  themselves  wdth  manly  and  rational 
pleasures,  they  would  not  count  the  restraints  of  Chris- 
tianity intolerable  5  nay,  they  would  find  in  it  a  set  of 
peculiarly  noble  and  refined  pleasures,  which  they  might 
seek  in  vain  elsewhere  ;  for  it  is  so  far  from  being  an 
enemy  to  the  happiness  of  man,  that  it  was  designed  to 
promote  it  ;  and  then  we  make  ourselves  miserable  when 
we  reject  it,  or  it  becomes  our  interest  that  it  should  be 
false.  As  to  the  penalty  of  everlasting  punishment  an- 
nexed to  sin,  which  is  but  a  temporal  evil,  I  would  ask 
them  whether  they  are  competent  judges  in  a  matter  in 
which  they  are  parties  1  Are  they  capable  to  determine 
what  degree  of  punishment  should  be  inflicted  upon  dis- 
obedience to  the  infinite  Majesty  of  heaven,  when  they 
are  not  only  short-sighted  creatures,  but  also  concerned 
m  the  aifair,  and  their  judgments  may  be  perverted  by 
self-interest  1  Whether  it  is  most  fit  that  the  Judge  of 
all  the  earth  should  determine  this  point,  or  a  company 
of  malefactors,  as  they  are  1  Is  it  allowed  to  criminals 
in  civil  courts  to  determine  their  o^vn  doom,  or  pro- 
nounce their  own  sentence  1  If  it  were,  few  of  them 
would  be  punished  at  all,  and  government  would  fall  into 
contempt.  Again,  let  me  remind  them,  that  the  penalty 
was  annexed  to  prevent  disobedience,  and  so  to  render 
the  execution  needless  ;  and  consequently  it  was  prima- 
rily intended  for  their  good.  Why  then  will  they  frus- 
trate this  design,  and,  when  they  have  rendered  the  ex* 


OF    TIIK    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  25 

ccutiou  necessary,  complain  of  its  severity  1  If  they 
think  the  penalty  so  terrible,  let  them  watch  against  sin, 
let  them  accept  the  salvation  the  gospel  offers,  and  so 
avoid  it  instead  of  quareling  with  its  severity,  and  yet 
rushing  upon  it.  Or,  if  they  say  they  will  persist  in  sin 
because  they  do  not  believe  the  punishment  is  eternal : 
this  gives  me  room  to  appeal  to  themselves  whether  a 
less  penalty  than  everlasting  misery  would  be  sufficient 
to  restrain  them  from  sin  ;  and  whether  God  would  have 
taken  all  proper  precautions  to  prevent  sin,  if  he  had  an- 
nexed a  less  punishment  to  his  law,  since  by  their  own 
confession,  nothing  less  could  deter  them  from  it.  I  shall 
only  add,  that  as  the  human  soul  must  always  exist,  and 
as  by  indulgence  in  sin  in  the  present  state  it  contracts 
such  habits  as  render  it  incapable  of  happiness  in  the 
holy  enjoyment  of  the  heavenh^  world,  it  must  by  a  na- 
tural necessity  be  for  ever  miserable,  though  God  should 
not  exert  any  positive  act  for  Its  punishment.  And  if 
the  devil  say,  that  punishment  for  some  time  would  re- 
claim offenders  from  sin  and  bring  them  to  repentance, 
the  difficulty  is  not  removed,  unless  they  can  prove  that 
misery  will  bring  men  to  love  that  God  Avho  inflicts  it, 
which  they  can  never  do  ;  and  it  is  evident,  that  that  re- 
pentance which  proceeds  merely  from  self-love,  without 
any  regard  to  God  at  all,  can  nevei  ;/<.  pleasing  to  him, 
nor  prepare  them  for  happiness  in  the  enjoyment  of  him. 
Punishment  would  produce  a  repentance  like  that  of  a 
sick-bed,  forced,  servile,  and  transitory. 

Will  they  object,  that  miracles  are  not  a  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  truth  and  divinity  of  a  revelation,  bc' 
cause  infernal  spirits  may  also  work  miracles,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  to  confirm  an  imposture  1 
But  it  is  known  that  our  free-thinkers  explode  and  laugh 
at  the  existence  and  power  of  evil  spirits  in  other  cases, 
and  therefore  must  not  be  allowed  to  admit  them  here 
to  serve  a  turn.  However,  we  grant  there  are  infernal 
spirits,  and  that  they  can  perform  many  things  above 
human  power,  which  may  appear  to  us  miraculous,  and 
yet  the  evidence  in  favor  of  Christianity  taken  from 
miracles,  stands  unshaken:  for,  (1.)  Can  we  suppose 
that  these  malignant  and  wickx^d  spirits,  w^hose  business 
it  is  to  reduce  men  to  sin  and  ruin,  would  be  willing  to 
exert  their  power  to  work  miracles  to  ccnfirm  so  holy  a 
3 


26  THE    DIVOE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFICIENCY 

religioi  ;  a  religion  so  contrary  to  their  design,  and  so 
subversive  of  their  kingdom  and  interest  1  This  would 
be  wretched  policy  indeed.  Or  if  we  should  suppose 
them  willing,  yet  (2.)  Can  we  think  that  God,  who  has 
them  all  at  his  control,  would  suffer  them  to  counterfeit 
the  great  seal  of  heaven,  and  annex  it  to  an  importure  1 
that  is,  to  work  such  miracles  as  could  not  be  distin- 
guished from  those  wrought  by  him  to  attest  an  impos- 
ture ]  Would  he  permit  them  to  impose  upon  mankind 
in  a  manner  that  could  not  be  detected  1  This  would  be 
to  deliver  the  world  to  their  management,  and  suffer 
them  to  lead  them  blindfold  to  hell  in  unavoidable  delu- 
sion :  for  miracles  are  such  dazzling  and  pompous  evi- 
dences, that  the  general  run  of  mankind  could  not  resist 
them,  even  though  they  were  wrought  to  attest  a  reli- 
gion that  might  be  demonstrated,  by  a  long  train  of  sub- 
lime reasoning,  to  be  false.  God  may  indeed  suffer  the 
devil  to  mimic  the  miracles  wrought  by  his  immediate 
hand,  as  in  the  case  of  Jannes  and  Jambres  ;  but  then, 
as  in  that  case  too,  he  will  take  care  to  excel  them,  and 
give  some  distinguishing  marks  of  his  almighty  agency, 
which  all  mankind  may  easily  discriminate  from  the  ut- 
most exertion  of  infernal  power.  But  though  Satan 
should  be  willing,  and  God  should  permit  him  to  work 
miracles,  yet,  (3)  Can  Ave  suppose  that  all  the  united 
powers  of  hell  are  able  to  work  such  astonishing  mira- 
cles as  were  wrought  for  the  confirmation  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  %  Can  we  suppose  that  they  can  control 
the  laws  of  nature  at  pleasure,  and  that  with  an  air  of 
sovereignty,  and  professing  themselves  the  lords  of  the 
universe,  as  we  know  Christ  did  1  If  we  can  believe 
this,  then  we  deny  them,  and  may  as  well  ascribe  the 
creation  and  preservation  of  the  world  to  them.  If  they 
could  exert  a  creating  power  to  form  new  limbs  for  the 
maimed,  or  to  multiply  five  loaves  and  two  fishes  into  a 
sufficient  quantity  of  food  for  five  thousand,  and  leave  a 
greater  quantity  of  fragments  when  that  were  done  than 
the  whole  provision  at  first,  then  they  might  create  the 

A^orld,  and  support  all  the  creatures  in  it.  If  they  could 
animate  the  dead  and  remand  the  separate  soul  back  to 
its  former  habitation,  and  reunite  it  with  the  body,  then 

I  see  not  why  they  might  not  have  given  us  life  at  first. 

But  to  suppose  this,  would  be  to  dethrone  the  King  of 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION.  27 

heaven,  and  renounce  his  providence  entirely  We 
therefore  rest  assured  that  the  miracles  related  m  the 
scriptures  were  wrought  by  the  finger  of  God. 

But  our  free-thinkers  will  urge,  How  do  we,  at  this 
distance,  know  that  such  miracles  were  actually  wrought  1 
they  are  only  related  in  scripture-history  ;  but  to  prove 
the  truth  of  scripture  from  arguments  that  suppose  the 
scripture  true,  is  a  ridiculous  method  of  reasoning,  and 
only  a  begging  of  the  question.  But,  (1.)  the  reality  of 
those  miracles  was  granted  by  the  enemies  of  Christian- 
ity in  their  writings  against  it  ;  and  they  had  no  answer 
to  make,  but  this  sorry  one,  that  they  were  wrought  by 
the  power  of  magic.  They  never  durst  deny  that  they 
were  wrought  ;  for  they  knew  all  the  world  could  prove 
it.  Indeed,  an  honorable  testimony  concerning  them 
could  not  be  expected  from  infidels  ;  for  it  would  be  ut- 
terly inconsistent  that  they  should  own  these  miracles 
sufficient  attestations  of  Christianity,  and  yet  continue 
infidels.  And  this  may  answer  an  unreasonable  demand 
of  the  deists,  that  Ave  should  produce  some  honorable 
testimony  concerning  these  attestations  from  Jews  and 
Heathens,  as  well  as  from  Christians,  who  were  parties. 
We  should  have  much  more  reason  to  suspect  the  testi- 
mony of  the  former  as  not  convictive,  when  it  did  not 
convince  the  persons  themselves.     But, 

(2.)  As  these  miracles  were  of  so  public  a  nature,  and 
as  so  many  were  concerned  to  detect  them,  that  they 
would  unavoidably  have  been  detected  when  related  in 
words,  if  they  had  not  been  done  ;  so,  for  the  same  rea- 
sons, they  could  not  but  have  been  detected  when  re- 
lated in  writing  ;  and  this  we  know  they  never  were.  If 
these  miracles  had  not  been  matters  of  undoubted  fact, 
they  could  not  have  been  inserted  at  first  in  the  gospel- 
history  ;  for  then,  many  thousands,  in  various  countries 
were  alive  to  confute  them  ;  and  they  could  not  have  been 
introduced  into  it  afterwards,  for  all  the  world  would 
see  that  it  was  then  too  late,  and  that  if  there  had  been 
such  things  they  should  have  heard  of  them  before  : 
for  they  were  much  more  necessary  for  the  propagation 
of  Christianity  than  for  its  support  when  received. 

But  it  may  be  objected.  How  can  we  at  this  distance 
know  that  these  histories  are  genuine  1  May  they  not 
have  been  corrupted,  and  many  additions  made  to  them 


28  THE    DJVJNE    AUTHORITY    AND    SUFFlCIENCy 

by  designing  men  in  ages  since  1  And  why  is  it  not 
also  asked,  how  do  we  know  that  there  were  such  men 
as  Alexander,  Julius  Caesar,  or  King  William  the  Third  1 
How  do  we  know  but  their  histories  are  all  romance 
and  fable  1  How  do  we  know  that  there  were  any  gen- 
erations of  mankind  before  ourselves  1  How  do  we 
know  but  all  the  acts  of  Parliament  of  former  reigns  are 
corrupted  and  we  are  ruled  by  impositions  1  In  short, 
how  can  we  know  anything,  but  what  we  have  seen 
with  our  eyes  1  We  may  as  well  make  difficulties  of 
all  these  things,  and  so  destroy  all  human  testimony,  as 
scruple  the  genuineness  of  the  sacred  writings  ;  for  nev- 
er were  any  writings  conveyed  down  with  so  good  evi- 
dence of  their  being  genuine  and  uncorrupted  as  these. 
Upon  their  first  publication  they  were  put  into  all  hands, 
they  were  scattered  into  all  nations,  translated  into  va- 
rious languages,  and  all  perused  them  ;  either  to  be 
taught  by  them,  or  to  cavil  at  them.  And  ever  since, 
they  have  been  quoted  by  thousands  of  authors,  appeal- 
ed to  by  all  parties  of  Christians,  as  the  supreme  judge 
of  controversies  ;  and  not  only  the  enemies  of  Christiani- 
ty have  carefully  watched  them  to  detect  any  alterations 
which  pious  fraud  might  attempt  to  make,  but  one  sect  of 
Christians  has  kept  a  watchful  eye  over  the  other,  lest 
they  should  alter  anything  in  favor  of  their  own  cause. 
And  it  is  matter  of  astonishment  as  well  as  conviction, 
that  all  the  various  copies  and  translations  of  the  scrip- 
tures in  different  nations  and  libraries  are  substantially 
the  same, and  differ  only  in  matters  of  small  moment ;  so 
that  from  the  worst  copy  of  translation  in  the  world,  one 
might  easily  learn  the  substance  of  Christianity. 

Or  will  our  infidels  insist  to  be  eye-witnesses  of  these 
facts  1  Must  one  arise  from  the  dead,  or  new  miracles 
be  wrought  to  convince  them  by  ocular  demonstration  1 
This  is  a  most  unreasonable  demand,  for  (1.)  The  con- 
tinuance of  miracles  in  every  age  would  be  attended 
with  numerous  inconveniences.  For  example,  Multi- 
tudes must  be  born  blind,  deaf,  or  dumb  ;  multitudes 
must  be  afflicted  with  incurable  diseases,  and  possessed 
bv  evil  spirits ;  multitudes  must  be  disturbed  in  the 
sleep  of  death  ;  and  all  the  laws  of  nature  must  be  made 
precarious  and  fickle,  in  order  to  leave  room  for  miracu* 
lous  operafons  ;  and  all  this'  to  humor  a  company  of 


OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION,  29 

obstinate  infidels,  who  would  not  believe  upon  less  strik- 
mg  though  entirely  sufficient  evidence.  (2.)  The  con- 
•inuance  of  miracles  from  age  to  age  would  destroy 
their  very  nature,  to  which  it  is  essential,  that  they  be 
rare  and  extraordinary  ;  for  what  is  ordinary  and  fre- 
quent, we  are  apt  to  ascribe  to  the  established  laws  of 
nature,  however  wonderful  it  be  in  itself.  For  example, 
if  we  saw  dead  bodies  rise  from  their  graves,  as  often 
as  we  see  vegetables  spring  from  seed  rotten  in  the 
earth,  we  should  be  no  more  surprised  at  the  one  phe- 
nomenon than  we  are  at  the  other,  and  our  virtuosi 
would  be  equally  busy  to  assign  some  natural  cause  for 
both. 

And  had  we  never  seen  the  sun  rise  until  this   morn- 
ing, we  should  justly  have  accounted  it  as  great  a  mira- 
cle as  any  recorded  in  the  scriptures ;  but  because  it   is 
common,  we  neglect  it  as  a  thing  of  course.     Indeed,  it 
is  not  anything  in  the  event  itself,  or  in   the    degree  of 
povv^er  necessary  for  its  accomplishment,  that  renders  it 
miraculous,  but  its  being  uncommon,  and  out  of   the  or- 
dinary course  of  things  ;  for  example,  the  generation  of 
the  human  body   is  not  in   itself   less  astonishing  ;  nor 
does  it  require  less  power  than  its  resurrection  :  the  re- 
volution of  the  sun  in  its  regular  course  is  as  wonderful, 
and  as  much  requires  a  divine  power,  as  its  standing  still 
m  the  days  of  Joshua.     But  we  acknowledge  a  miracle 
m  the   one  case,  but  not  in  the  other,  because  the  one 
is    extraordinary,  while  the     other    frequently    occurs 
Hence  it  follows,  that  the   frequent  repetition  of  mira 
cles,  as  often  as  men  are  pleased  to  plead  the  want  of 
evidence  to  excuse  their   infidelity,  would   destroy  their 
very  nature  :  and  consequently,  to   demand  their  conti 
nuance  is  to  demand  an  impossibility.     But  (3.)  Suppose 
that  men  should  be    indulged  in  this  request,  it  would 
not  probably  bring  them  to  believe.     If  they  are   unbe- 
lievers now,  it  is  not  for  want  of  evidence,  but  througji 
wilful  blindness   and  obstinacy ;  and   as   they  that  will 
shut  their  eyes  can  see  no  more    in   meridian  light  than 
in  the  twilight,  so  they  that  reject  a  sufficiency  of  evi- 
dence would  also  resist  a  superfluity  of  it.     Thus   the 
Jews,  who  were  eye-witnesses  of  the  miracles  recorded 
in    the    scriptures,  continued    invincible     infidels  still. 
They  had   always  some  trifling    cavil   ready  to  object 
3* 


30        DIVINE    AUTHORITY    OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    RELIGION. 

against  the  brightest  evidence.     And  thus  our  modern 
infidels  would  no  doubt  evade  the  force  of  the  most  mi- 
raculous attestation   by    some  wretched    hypothesis    or 
other  ;  they  would  look  upon  miracles  either  as  magical 
productions,  or  illusions  of   their  senses  ;  or  rather,  as 
natural  and  necessary  events,  which  they  would  indeed 
have  some  reason  to  conclude,  if  they  were  frequently 
performed  before  their  eyes.     Som.e  have  pretended   U 
doubt  of  the  existence  and  perfections  of  God,  notwith 
standing  the    evidences  thereof   upon  this   magnificent 
structure  of  the  universe  ;  and  must  God  be  always  cre- 
ating new  worlds  before  these   obstinate    creatures  for 
their  conviction  1     Such   persons  have    as   much  reason 
to  demand  it  in  this  case,  as  our  deists  have  to  insist  for 
new  miracles  in  the  other.     I  might  add,  that  such  glar- 
ing evidence,  as,  like  the   light  of  the  sun,  Avould   force 
itself  irresistibly  upon  the  minds   of  the  most  reluctant, 
would  not  leave  room  for  us  to  show  our  regard  to-God 
in  believing,  for  we  should  then  believe  from  extrinsic 
necessity,  and   not  from   choice.     It   is  therefore  most 
correspondent  to   our  present   state   of  probation,  that 
there  should  be   something   in  the  evidence  of  a  divine 
revelation  to  try  us  ;  something  that  might  fully  con- 
\  ince  the  teachable  and  yet  not  remove  all  umbrages  for 
cavilling  from  the  obstinate. 

Thus  I  have  answered  as  many  objections  as  the 
bounds  of  a  sermon  w^ould  admit ;  and  I  think  they  are 
the  principal  ones  which  lie  against  my  svibject  in  the 
view  I  have  considered  it.  And  as  I  have  not  designed- 
ly selected  the  weakest,  in  order  to  an  easy  triumph, 
you  may  look  upon  the  answers  that  have  been  given  as 
a  ground  of  rational  presumption,  that  all  other  objec- 
tions may  be  answered  with  equal  ease.  Indeed,  if  they 
could  not,  it  would  not  invalidate  the  positive  arguments 
in  favor  of  Christianity ;  for  when  we  have  sufficient 
positive  evidence  for  a  thing,  we  do  not  reject  it  be- 
cause it  is  attended  with  some  difficulties  which  we  can- 
not solve. 

My  time  will  allow  me  to  make  but  two  or  three  short 
reflections  upon  the  whole. 

1.  If  the  religion  of  Jesus  be  attested  with  such  full 
evidence,  and  be  sufTicicnt  to  conduct  men  to  everlast- 
ing felicity,  then  how  helpless  are  they  that  have  enjoy- 


rilE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION  31 

ed  it  all  their  life  without  profit :  who  either  reject  it  as 
false,  or  have  not  felt  its  power  to  reform  their  hearts 
and  lives  1  It  is  the  last  remedy  provided  for  a  guilty 
world ;  and  if  this  fails,  their  disease  is  incurable,  and 
they  are  not  to  expect  better  means. 

2.  If  the  religion  of  Jesus  be  true,  then  wo  unto  the 
wicked  of  all  sorts  :  w^o  to  infidels,  both  practical  and 
speculative,  for  all  the  curses  of  it  are  in  full  force 
against  them,  and  I  need  not  tell  you  how  dreadful  they 
are. 

3.  If  the  religion  of  Jesus  be  true,  then  I  congratulate 
such  of  you,  whose  hearts  and  lives  are  habitually  con- 
formed to  it,  and  who  have  venture.d  your  everlasting  all 
upon  it.  You  build  upon  a  sure  foundation,  and  your 
hope  shall  never  make  you  ashamed. 

Finally,  Let  us  all  strive  to  become  rational  and  prac- 
tical believers  of  this  heaven-born  religion.  Let  our 
understandings  be  more  rationally  and  thoroughly  con- 
vinced of  its  truth  ;  and  our  hearts  and  lives  be  more 
and  more  conformed  to  its  purity  ;  and  ere  long  we  shall 
receive  those  glorious  rewards  it  insures  to  all  its  sin- 
cere disciples  ;  which  may  God  grant  to  us  all  for  Jesus' 
sake  J  Amen  ! 


SERMON  II. 

THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION    THROUGH   JESUS    CHRIST. 

John  iii.  16. — For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life. 

I  have  been  solicitously  thinking  in  what  \vay  my  life, 
redeemed  from  the  grave,  may  be  of  most  service  to  my 
dear  people.  And  I  would  collect  all  the  feeble  remains 
of  my  strength  into  one  vigorous  effort  this  day,  to  pro- 
mote this  benevolent  end.  If  I  knew  what  subject  has 
the  most  direct  tendency  to  save  your  souls,  that  is  the 
subject  to  whi^h  my  heart  would  chng  with  peculiar  en- 


32  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION. 

dearment,  and  which  1  would   make  the  matter  of  the 
present  discourse. 

And  when  I  consider  I  am  speaking  to  an  assembly  of 
sinners,  guilty,  depraved,  helpless  creatures,  and  that,  if 
ever  you  be  saved,  it  will  be  only  through  Jesus  Christ, 
in  that  way  which  the  gospel  reveals  ;  when  I  consider 
that  your  everlasting  life  and  happiness  turn  upon  this 
hinge,  namely,  the  reception  you  give  to  this  Savior,  and 
this  way  of  salvation  ;  I  say,  when  I  consider  these 
things,  I  can  think  of  no  subject  I  can  more  properly 
choose  than  to  recomm.end  the  Lord  Jesus  to  your  ac- 
ceptance, and  to  explain  and  inculcate  the  method  of  sal- 
vntion  through  his  mediation  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to 
preach  the  pure  gospel  to  you  ;  for  the  gospel,  in  the 
most  proper  sense,  is  nothing  else  but  a  revelation  of  a 
way  of  salvation  for  sinners  of  Adam's  race. 

My  text  furnishes  me  with  proper  materials  for  my 
purpose.  Let  heaven  and  earth  hear  it  with  wonder,  joy, 
and  raptures  of  praise  !  God  so  loved  the  world.,  that  he 
gave  his  only  begotten  Son.,  that  whosoever^  or  that  every 
one  that  believetk  in  him  should  not  pej'ish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting life. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  most  important  evening  conversa- 
tion that  ever  was  held  ;  I  mean,  that  between  Christ  and 
Nicodemus,  a  Pharisee  and  ruler  of  the  Jews.  Our  Lord 
first  instructs  him  in  the  doctrine  of  regeneration,  that 
grand  constituent  of  a  Christian,  and  pre-requisite  to  our 
admission  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  then  he  pro- 
ceeds to  inform  him  of  the  gospel-method  of  salvation, 
which  contains  these  two  grand  articles,  the  death  of 
Christ,  as  the  great  foundation  of  blessedness  ;  and  faith 
in  him,  as  the  great  qualification  upon  the  part  of  the 
sinner.  He  presents  this  important  doctrine  to  us  in 
various  forms,  with  a  very  significant  repetition.  j3s 
Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  shall 
the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  up  ;  that  is,  hung  on  high  on  a 
cross,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish 
but  have  everlasting  life.  Then  follows  my  text,  which 
expresses  the  same  doctrine  with  great  force  :  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  gave  him 
Up  to  death,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life.  He  goes  on  to  mention  a  won- 
der.     This  earth  is   a  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  33 

dominions,  and  therefore  if  his  Son  should  ever  visit  it, 
one  would  think  it  would  be  as  an  angry  judge,  or  as  the 
executioner  of  his  Father's  vengeance.  But,  0  aston- 
ishing !  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  t%e 
world^  hut  that  the  world  through  him.  might  be  saved. 
Hence  the  terms  of  life  and  death  are  thus  fixed.  He 
that  believeth  in  him  is  not  condemned:  but  he  that  believ- 
eth  not  is  condemned  already^  because  he  hath  not  believed  in 
the  name  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God.  Sure  the  hea- 
venly  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  in  these  verses.  Never, 
metliinks,  was  there  so  much  gospel  expressed  in  so  few 
words.  Here,  take  the  gospel  in  miniature,  and  bind  it 
to  your  hearts  for  ever.  These  verses  alone,  methinks, 
are  a  sufficient  remedy  for  a  dying  world. 

The  truths  I  would  infer  from  the  text  for  present  im- 
provement are  these  :  that  without  Christ  you  are  all  in 
a  perishing  condition  ;  that  through  Jesus  Christ  a  way 
is  opened  for  your  salvation  ;  that  the  grand  pre-requi- 
site  to  your  being  saved  in  this  way,  is  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ  5  that  every  one,  without  exception,  whatever  his 
former  character  has  been,  that  is  enabled  to  comply 
with  this  pre-requisite,  shall  certainly  be  saved  ;  and  that 
the  constitution  of  this  method  of  salvation,  or  the  mis- 
sion of  Christ  into  our  world,  as  the  Savior  of  sinners,  is 
a  most  striking  and  astonishing  instance  and  display  of 
the  love  of  God. 

I.  My  text  implies,  that  without  Christ  you  are  all  in 
a  perishing  condition.  This  holds  true  of  you  in  partic- 
ular, because  it  holds  true  of  the  world  universally  ;  for 
the  world  was  undoubtedly  in  a  perishing  condition 
without  Christ,  and  none  but  he  could  relieve  it,  other- 
wise God  would  never  have  given  his  only  begotten 
Son  to  save  it.  God  is  not  ostentatious  or  prodigal  of 
his  gifts,  especially  of  so  inestimable  a  gift  as  his  Son, 
whom  he  loves  infinitely  more  than  the  whole  creation. 
So  great,  so  dear  a  person  would  not  have  been  sent 
upon  a  mission  which  could  have  been  discharged  by 
any  other  being.  Thousands  of  rams  must  bleed  in  sac- 
rifice, or  ten  thousands  of  rivers  of  oil  must  flow  j  our 
first-born  must  die  for  our  transgressions,  and  the  fruit 
of  our  body  for  the  sin  of  our  souls ;  or  Gabriel  or  some 
of  the  upper  ranks  of  angels,  must  leave  their  thrones, 
and  hang  upon  a  cross,  if  such  methods  of  salvation  had 


34  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION. 

been  sufficient.  All  this  would  have  been  nothing  in 
comparison  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  leaving  his 
native  heaven,  and  all  its  glories,  assuming  our  degrad- 
ed nature,  spending  thirty-three  long  and  tedious  years 
in  poverty,  disgrace,  and  persecution,  dying  as  a  male- 
factor and  a  slave  in  the  midst  of  ignominy  and  torture, 
and  lying  a  mangled  breathless  corpse  in  the  grave.  We 
may  be  sure  there  was  the  highest  degree  of  necessity 
for  it,  otherwise  God  would  not  have  given  up  his  dear 
Son  to  such  a  horrid  scene  of  sufferings. 

This,  then,  was  the  true  state  of  the  world,  and  conse- 
quently yours  without  Christ  ;  it  was  hopeless  and  des- 
perate in  every  view.  In  that  situation  there  would  not 
have  been  so  much  goodness  in  the  world  as  to  try  the 
efficacy  of  sacrifices,  prayers,  tears,  reformation,  and  re- 
pentance, or  they  would  have  been  tried  in  vain.  It 
would  have  been  inconsistent  with  the  honor  of  the  divine 
perfections  and  government,  to  admit  sacrifices,  pray- 
ers, tears,  repentance,  and  reformation,  as  a  sufficient 
atonement. 

What  a  melancholy  view  of  the  world  have  we  now 
before  us !  We  know  the  state  of  mankind  only  under 
the  gracious  government  of  a  Mediator ;  and  we  but 
seldom  realize  what  our  miserable  condition  would  have 
been,  had  this  gracious  administration  never  been  set 
up.  But  exclude  a  Savior  in  your  thoughts  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  take  a  view  of  the  world — helpless  ! 
hopeless  ! — under  the  righteous  displeasure  of  God ; 
and  despairing  of  relief ! — the  very  suburbs  of  hell !  the 
range  of  malignant  devils  !  the  region  of  guilt,  misery, 
and  despair  ! — the  mouth  of  the  infernal  pit ! — the  gate 
of  hell ! — This  would  have  been  the  condition  of  our 
world  had  it  not  been  for  that  Jesus  who  redeemed  it ; 
and  yet  in  this  very  world  he  is  neglected  and  despised. 

But  you  will  ask  me,  "  How  it  comes  that  the  world 
was  in  such  an  undone,  helpless,  hopless  condition  with- 
out Christ  ;  or  what  are  the  reasons  of  all  this  1" 

The  true  account  of  this  will  appear  from  these  two 
considerations,  that  all  mankind  are  sinners ;  and  that 
no  other  method  but  the  mediation  of  Christ  could  ren- 
der the  salvation  of  sinners  consistent  with  the  honor 
of  the  divine  perfections  and  government,  with  the  pub- 
lic good,  and  even  with  the  nature  of  things. 


TH!touc:i  JESUS  CHRIST.  3a 

All  mankind  are  sinners.  This  is  too  evident  to  need 
proof.  They  are  sinners,  rebels  against  the  greatest 
and  best  of  beings,  against  their  Maker,  their  liberal 
Benefactor,  and  their  rightful  Sovereign,  to  whom  they 
are  under  stronger  and  more  endearing  obligations  than 
they  can  be  under  to  any  creature,  or  even  to  the  entire 
system  of  creatures ;  sinners,  rebels  in  every  part  of  our 
guilty  globe  ;  none  righteous,  no,  not  one  ;  all  sinners, 
without  exception  :  sinners  from  age  to  age  for  thou- 
sands of  years  :  thousands,  millions,  innumerable  multi^ 
tudes  of  sinners.  What  an  obnoxious  race  is  this ! 
There  appears  no  difficulty  in  the  way  of  justice  to 
punish  such  creatures.  But  what  seeming  insuperable 
difficulties  appear  in  the  way  of  their  salvation  !  Let  me 
mention  a  few  of  them  to  recommend  that  blessed  Sav- 
ior who  has  removed  them  all. 

If  such  sinners  be  saved,  how  shall  the  holiness  and 
justice  of  God  be  displayed!  How  shall  he  give  an 
honorable  view  of  himself  to  all  worlds,  as  a  being 
of  perfect  purity,  and  an  enemy  to  all  moral  evil  1 

If  such  sinners  be  saved,  how  shall  the  honor  of  the 
divine  government  and  law  be  secured  \  How  will  the 
dignity  of  the  law  appear,  if  a  race  of  rebels  may  trifle 
with  it  with  impunity  1  What  a  sorry  law  must  that  be 
that  has  no  sanctions,  or  whose  sanctions  may  be  dis- 
pensed with  at  pleasure  1  What  a  contemptible  govern- 
ment, that  may  be  insulted  and  rejected,  and  the  offend- 
er admitted  into  favor  without  exemplary  punishment  1 
No  government  can  subsist  upon  such  principles  of  ex- 
cessive indulgence. 

How  can  such  sinners  be  saved,  and  yet  the  good  of 
the  public  secured,  which  is  always  the  end  of  every 
wise  and  good  ruler  1  By  the  public  good  I  do  not 
mean  the  happiness  of  mankind  alone,  but  I  mean  the 
happiness  of  all  worlds  of  reasonable  creatures  collec- 
tively, in  comparison  of  which  the  happiness  of  man- 
kind alone  may  be  only  a  private  interest,  which  should 
always  give  way  to  the  public  good.  Now  sin  has  a  di- 
rect tendency,  not  only  according  to  law,  but  according 
to  the  nature  of  things,  to  scatter  misery  and  ruin 
wherever  its  infection  reaches.  Therefore  the  public 
good  cannot  properly  be  consulted  without  giving  a 
loud   and   effectual   warning  against   all  sin,  and   deal* 


36  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATiO.X. 

ing  with  offenders  in  such  a  manner  as  to  ileter 
others  from  offending.  But  how  can  this  be  done  1 
How  can  the  sinner  be  saved,  and  yet  the  evil  of 
sin  displayed,  and  all  other  beings  be  deterred  from 
it  for  ever  1  How  can  sin  be  discouraged  by  pardoning 
It  1  its  evil  displayed  by  letting  the  criminal  escape 
punishment  1  These  are  such  difficulties,  that  nothing 
but  divine  wisdom  could  ever  surmount  them. 

These  difficulties  lie  in  the  way  of  a  mere  pardon,  and 
exemption  from  punishment :  but  salvation  includes 
more  than  this.  When  sinners  are  saved,  they  are  not 
only  pardoned,  but  received  into  high  favor,  made  the 
children,  the  friends,  the  courtiers  of  the  King  of 
heaven.  They  are  not  only  delivered  from  punish- 
ment, but  also  advanced  to  a  state  of  perfect  positive 
happiness,  and  nothing  short  of  this  can  render  such 
creatures  as  we  happy.  Now,  in  this  view,  the  difficul- 
ties rise  still  higher,  and  it  is  the  more  worthy  of  obser- 
vation, as  this  is  not  generally  the  case  in  human  gov- 
ernments ;  and  as  men  are  apt  to  form  their  notions  of 
the  divine  government  by  human,  they  are  less  sensible 
of  these  difficulties. — But  this  is  indeed  the  true  state  of 
the  case  here  ;  how  can  the  sinner  be  not  only  deliv- 
ered from  punishment,  but  also  advanced  to  a  state  of 
perfect  happiness  1  not  only  escape  the  displeasure  of 
his  offended  Sovereign,  but  be  received  into  full  favor, 
and  advanced  to  the  highest  honor  and  dignity  ;  hov/ 
can  this  be  done  without  casting  a  cloud  over  the  purity 
and  justice  of  the  Lord  of  all  ;  without  sinking  his  law 
and  government  into  contempt  ;  without  diminishing  the 
evil  of  sin,  and  emboldening  others  to  venture  upon  it, 
and  so  at  once  injuring  the  character  of  the  supreme 
Ruler,  and  the  public  good  1  How  can  sinners,  I  say, 
be  saved  without  the  salvation  being  attended  w4th 
these  bad  consequences  1 

And  here  you  must  remember,  that  these  conse- 
quences must  be  provided  against.  To  save  men  at 
random,  without  considering  the  consequences,  to  dis- 
tribute happiness  to  private  persons  with  an  undistin- 
guishing  hand,  this  would  be  at  once  inconsistent  with 
the  character  of  the  supreme  Magistrate  of  the  universe, 
and  with  the  public  good.  Private  persons  are  at 
liberty  to  forgive  private  offences  j  nay,  it  is  their  duty 


THROUGIf    JESTJS    CHRIST. 


31 


to  forgive  ;  and  they  can  hardly  offend  by  way  of  ex- 
cess in  the  generous  virtues  of  mercy  and  compassion. 
But  the  case  is  otherwise  with  a  magistrate  ;  he  is 
obliged  to  consult  the  dignity  of  his  government  and  the 
interest  of  the  public  ;  and  he  may  easily  carry  his  lenity 
to  a  very  dangerous  extreme,  and  by  his  tenderness  to 
criminals  do  an  extensive  injury  to  the  state.  This  is 
particularly  the  case  with  regard  to  the  great  God,  the 
universal  supreme  Magistrate  of  all  worlds.  And  this 
ought  to  be  seriously  considered  by  those  men  of 
loose  principles  among  us,  who  look  upon  God  only 
under  the  fond  character  of  a  father,  or  a  being  of  infi- 
nite mercy  ;  and  thence  conclude,  they  have  little  to 
fear  from  him  for  all  their  audacious  iniquities.  There 
is  no  absolute  necessity  that  sinners  should  be  saved : 
justice  may  be  suffered  to  take  place  upon  them.  But 
there  is  the  most  absolute  necessity  that  the  Ruler  of  the 
Avorld  should  both  be,  and  appear  to  be  holy  and  just. 
There  is  the  most  absolute  necessity  that  he  should  sup- 
port the  dignity  of  his  government,  and  guard  it  from 
contempt,  that  he  should  strike  all  worlds  with  a  proper 
horror  of  sin,  and  represent  it  in  its  genuine  infernal 
colors,  and  so  consult  the  good  of  the  whole,  rather  than 
a  part.  There  is,  I  say,  the  highest  and  most  absolute 
necessity  for  these  things  ;  and  they  cannot  be  dispensed 
with  as  matters  of  arbitrary  pleasure.  And  unless  these 
ends  can  be  answered  in  the  salvation  of  men,  they  can- 
not bes  aved  at  all.  No,  they  must  all  perish,  rather  than 
God  should  act  out  of  character,  as  the  supreme  magis- 
trate of  the  universe,  or  bestow  private  favors  to  crimi- 
nals, to  the  detriment  of  the  public. 

And  in  this  lay  the  difficulty.  Call  a  council  of  all 
the  sages  and  wise  men  of  the  world,  and  they  can 
never  get  over  this  difficulty,  without  borrowing  assist- 
ance from  the  gospel.  Nay,  this,  no  doubt,  puzzled  all 
the  angelic  intelligences,  who  pry  so  deep  into  the  mys- 
teries of  heaven,  before  the  gospel  was  fully  revealed. — 
Methinks  the  angels,  when  they  saw  the  fall  of  man, 
gave  him  up  as  desperate.  "  Alas  !  (they  cried)  the 
poor  creature  is  gone  !  he  and  all  his  numerous  race  are 
lost  for  ever."  This,  they  knew,  had  been  the  doom  of 
their  fellow  angels  that  sinned  :  and  could  they  hope 
better   for  man  1      Then  they  had  not   seen  any  of  the 


38  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

wonders  of  pardoning  love  and  mercy,  and  could  they 
have  once  thought  that  that  glorious  person,  who  filled 
the  middle  throne,  and  was  their  Creator  and  Lord, 
would  ever  become  a  man,  and  die,  like  a  criminal,  to 
redeem  an  inferior  rank  of  creatures  \  No,  this  thought 
they  \vould  probably  have  shuddered  at  as  blasphemy. 

And  must  we  then  give  up  ourselves  and  all  our  race 
as  lost  beyond  recovery  1  There  are  huge  and  seem- 
ingly insuperable  difficulties  in  the  way  j  and  we  have 
seen  that  neither  men  nor  angels  can  prescribe  any  re- 
lief. But,  sing,  0  ye  heavens,  for  the  Lord  hath  done  it  : 
shout,  ye  lower  parts  of  the  earth  :  break  forth  into  sing- 
ing, ye  mountains,  0  forest,  and  every  tree  therein  ;  for  the 
Lord  hath  redeemed  Jacob,  and  glorified  himself  in  Israel, 
Isaiah  xliv.  23.     Which  leads  me  to  add, 

II.  My  text  implies,  that  through  Jesus  Christ  a  way 
is  opened  for  your  salvation.  He,  and  he  only  was 
found  equal  to  the  undertaking ;  and  before  him  all 
these  mountains  became  a  plain  ;  all  these  difficulties 
vanish  ;  and  now  God  can  be  just,  can  secure  the  dig- 
nity of  his  character,  as  the  Ruler  of  the  world,  and  an- 
swer all  the  ends  of  government,  and  yet  justify  and 
save  the  sinner  that  believeth  in  Jesus. 

This  is  plainly  implied  in  this  glorious  epitome  of  the 
gospel :  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that  whoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life.  Without  this  gift  all  was  lost : 
but  now,  whosoever  believeth  in  him  may  be  saved ; 
saved  in  a  most  honorable  way.  This  will  appear  more 
particularly,  if  we  consider  the  tendency  the  mediation 
of  Christ  had  to  remove  the  difficulties  mentioned.  But 
I  would  premise  two  general  remarks. 

The  first  is.  That  God  being  considered  in  this  affair 
in  his  public  character,  as  Supreme  Magistrate,  or  Gov- 
ernor of  the  world,  all  the  punishment  which  he  is  con- 
cerned to  see  inflicted  upon  sin  is  only  such  as  answers 
the  ends  of  government.  Private  revenge  must  vent 
itsel  r  on  the  very  person  of  the  offender,  or  be  disap- 
pointed. But  to  a  ruler,  as  such,  it  may  in  some  cases 
be  indifferent,  whether  the  punishment  be  sustained  by 
the  very  person  that  offended,  or  by  a  substitute  suffer 
ing  in  his  stead.  It  may  also  be  indifferent  whether  the 
very  same  punishment,  as  to  kind  and  degree,  threat- 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  39 

ened  in  the  law,  be  inflicted,  or  a  punishment  equivalent 
to  it.  If  the  honor  of  the  ruler  and  his  government  be 
maintained,  if  all  disobedience  be  properly  discounte- 
nanced 5  if,  in  short,  all  the  ends  of  government  can  be 
answered,  such  things  as  these  are  indifferences.  Con- 
sequently, if  these  ends  should  be  answered  by  Christ's 
suffering  in  the  stead  of  sinners,  there  would  be  no 
objection  against  it.  This  remark  introduces  another, 
namely,  (2.)  That  Jesus  Christ  was  such  a  person  that 
his  suffering  as  the  substitute  or  surety  of  sinners,  an- 
swered all  the  ends  of  government  which  could  be  an- 
swered by  the  execution  of  the  punishment  upon  the 
sinners  themselves.  To  impose  suffering  upon  the  in- 
nocent, when  unwilling,  is  unjust :  but  Jesus  Avas  will- 
ing to  undertake  the  dreadful  task.  And  besides,  he 
was  a  person  {sui  juris)  at  his  owm  disposal,  his  own 
property,  and  therefore  he  had  a  right  to  dispose  of  his 
life  as  he  pleased  ;  and  there  Avas  a  merit  in  his  consent- 
ing to  that  which  he  was  not  obliged  to  previous  to  his 
consent.  He  was  also  a  person  of  infinite  dignity,  and 
infinitely  beloved  by  his  Father  ;  and  these  considera- 
tions rendered  the  merit  of  his  sufferings  for  a  short 
time,  and  another  kind  of  punishment  than  that  of  hell, 
equal,  more  than  equal  to  the  everlasting  sufferings  of 
sinners  themselves.  Jesus  Christ  was  also  above  law ; 
that  is,  not  obliged  to  be  subject  to  that  law  which  he 
had  made  for  his  creatures,  and  consequently  his  obedi- 
ence to  the  law,  not  being  necessary  for  himself,  might 
be  imputed  to  others :  wheyeas  creatures  are  incapable 
of  works  of  supererogation,  or  of  doing  more  than  they 
are  bound  to  do,  being  obliged  to  obey  their  divine  law- 
giver for  themselves  to  the  utmost  extent  of  their  abili- 
ties, and  consequently  their  obedience,  however  perfect, 
can  be  sufficient  only  for  themselves,  but  cannot  be  im- 
puted to  others.  Thus  it  appears,  in  general,  that  the 
ends  of  government  are  as  effectually  answered  by  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  in  the  room  of  sinners,  as  they  could 
be  by  the  everlasting  punishment  of  the  sinners  them- 
selves ;  nay,  we  shall  presently  find  they  are  answered 
in  a  more  striking  and  illustrious  manner.  To  mention 
particulars : 

Was  it  necessary  that  the  holiness  and  justice  of  God 
should  be  displayed  in  the  salvation  of  sinners  1     See 


40  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

how  bright  they  shine  in  a  suffering  Savior  !  Now  it 
appears  that  such  is  the  holiness  and  justice  of  God, 
that  he  will  not  let  even  his  own  Son  escape  unpunished, 
when  he  stands  in  the  law-place  of  sinners,  though 
guilty  only  by  the  slight  stain  (may  I  so  speak)  of  im- 
putation. Could  the  execution  of  everlasting  punish- 
ment upon  the  hateful  criminals  themselves  ever  give  so 
bright  a  display  of  these  attributes  \  It  were  impossi- 
ble.    Again, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  to  save  sinners,  and  yet  maintain 
the  rights  of  the  divine  government,  and  the  honor  of 
the  law  1  See  how  this  difficulty  is  removed  by  the 
obedience  and  death  of  Christ !  Now  it  appears,  that 
the  rights  of  the  divine  government  are  so  sacred  and 
inviolable,  that  they  must  be  maintained,  though  the 
darling  Son  of  God  should  fall  a  sacrifice  to  justice  ;  and 
that  not  one  offence  against  this  government  can  be  par- 
doned, Avithout  his  making  a  full  atonement.  Now  it 
appears,  that  the  Supreme  Ruler  is  not  to  be  trilled  with, 
but  that  his  injured  honor  must  be  repaired,  though  at 
the  expense  of  his  Son's  blood  and  life.  Now,  the  pre- 
cept of  the  law  is  perfectly  obeyed  in  every  part,  and  a 
full  equivalent  to  its  penalty  endured,  by  a  person  of  in- 
finite dignity  5  and  it  is  only  upon  this  footing,  that  is, 
of  complete  satisfaction  to  all  the  demands  of  the  law, 
that  any  of  the  rebellious  sons  of  men  can  be  restored 
into  favor.  This  is  a  satisfaction  which  Christ  alone 
could  give  :  to  sinners  it  is  utterly  impossible,  either  by 
doing  or  suffering.  They  cannot  do  all  the  things  that 
are  written  in  the  law ;  nor  can  they  endure  its  penalty, 
without  being  for  ever  miserable  :  and  therefore  the  law 
has  received  a  more  complete  satisfaction  in  Christ  than 
it  would  ever  receive  from  the  offenders  themselves. 
Further, 

Was  it  a  difficulty  how  sinners  might  be  saved,  and 
yet  the  evil  of  sin  be  displayed  in  all  its  horrors  \  Go 
to  the  cross  of  Christ ;  there,  ye  fools,  that  make  a  mock 
of  sin,  there  learn  its  malignity,  and  its  hatefulness  to 
the  great  God.  There  you  may  see  it  is  so  great  an 
evil,  that  when  it  is  but  imputed  to  the  man,  that  is 
God's  fellow,  as  the  surety  of  sinners,  it  cannot  escape 
punishment.  No,  when  that  dreadful  stain  lay  upon 
tim,  immediately  the   commission  was  given  to  divine 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  41 

justice,  Awake^  0  sword,  against  my  shepherd,  against  the 
man  that  is  my  fellow,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts  ;  smite  the 
shepherd.  Zech.  xiii.  7. — When  Christ  stood  in  the  room 
of  sinners,  even  the  Father  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but 
gave  him  up  to  death.  That  the  criminals  themselves, 
who  are  an  inferior  race  of  creatures,  should  not  escape 
would  not  be  strange :  but  what  an  enormous  evil  must 
that  be,  which  cannot  be  com  ived  at  even  in  the  favor- 
ite of  Heaven,  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  !  Surely 
nothing  besides  could  give  so  striking  a  display  of" its 
malignity  ! 

Was  it  a  difficulty  how  to  reconcile  the  salvation  of 
sinners,  and  the  public  good]  that  is,  how  to  forgive 
sin,  and  yet  give  an  eflectual  warning  against  it  1  How 
to  receive  the  sinner  into  favor,  and  advance  him  to  the 
highest  honor  and  happiness,  and  in  the  mean  time  de- 
ter all  other  beings  from  offending  1  All  this  is  pro- 
vided for  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ  as  a  surety.  Let  all 
worlds  look  to  his  cross,  and  receive  the  warning  which 
his  wounds,  and  groans,  and  blood,  and  dying  agonies 
proclaim  aloud ;  and  sure  they  can  never  dare  to  offend 
after  the  example  of  man.  Now  they  may  see  that  the 
only  instance  of  pardon  to  be  found  in  the  universe  was 
not  brought  about  by  such  means  as  are  not  likely  to  be 
repeated ;  by  the  incarnation  and  death  of  the  Lord  of 
glory.  And  can  they  flatter  themselves  that  he  will 
leave  his  throne  and  hang  upon  a  cross,  as  often  as  any 
of  his  creatures  wantonly  dare  to  offend  him  1  No ; 
such  a  miracle  as  this,  the  utmost  effort  of  divine  grace, 
is  not  often  to  be  renewed  ;  and  therefore,  if  they  dare 
to  sin,  it  is  at  their  peril  They  have  no  reason  to  flat- 
ter themselves  they  shall  be  favored  like  fallen  man; 
but  rather  to  expect  they  shall  share  in  the  doom  of  the 
fallen  angels. 

Or  if  they  should  think  sin  may  escape  with  but  a 
slight  punishment,  here  they  may  be  convinced  of  the 
contrary.  If  the  Darling  of  heaven,  the  Lord  of  glory, 
though  personally  innocent,  suffers  so  much  when  sin  is 
but  imputed  to  him,  what  shall  the  sinners  themselves 
feel,  who  can  claim  no  favor  upon  the  footing  of  their 
own  importance,  or  personal  innocence  %  If  these  things 
be  done  "in  the  green  tree,  what  shaU  be  done  in  the 
dryl." 

4* 


4^2  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

Tims,  my  brethren,  you  may  see  how  a  way  is  openeo 
through  Jesus  Christ  for  our  salvation.  All  the  ends  of 
government  may  be  answered,  and  yet  you  pardoned,  and 
made  happy.  Those  attributes  of  the  divine  nature,  such 
as  mercy  and  justice,  which  seemed  to  clash,  are  now 
reconciled  ;  now  they  mingle  their  beams,  and  both  shine 
with  a  brighter  glory  in  the  salvation  of  sinners,  than 
either  of  them  could  apait.  And  must  you  not  acknow 
leflge  this  divine  God-like  scheme  1  Can  you  look  round 
you  over  the  works  of  the  creation,  and  see  the  divine 
wisdom  in  every  object,  and  can  you  not  perceive  the 
divine  agency  in  this  still  more  glorious  work  of  re- 
demption l  Redemption,  which  gives  a  full  view  of  the 
Deity,  not  as  the  sun  in  eclipse,  half  dark,  half  bright, 
but  as 

A  God  all  o'er,  consummate,  absolute, 

Full  orb'd,  in  his  whole  round  of  rays  complete. — Young. 

And  shall  not  men  and  angels  join  in  wonder  and  praise 
at  the  survey  of  this  amazing  scheme  1  Angels  are 
wrapt  in  wonder  and  praise,  and  will  be  so  to  all  eter- 
nity. See !  how  they  pry  into  this  mystery !  hark !  how 
they  sing  !  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest ;"  and  cele- 
brate the  Lamb  that  was  slain !  and  shall  not  men,  who 
are  personally  interested  in  the  affair,  join  with  them  1 
O  !  are  there  none  to  join  with  them  in  this  assembly  1 
Surely,  none  can  refuse  ! 

Now,  since  all  obstructions  are  removed  on  God's 
part,  that  lay  in  the  way  of  our  salvation,  why  should  we 
not  all  be  saved  together  1  What  is  there  to  hinder  our 
crowding  into  heaven  promiscuously  %  Or  what  is  there 
requisite  on  our  part,  in  order  to  make  us  partakers  of 
this  salvation  1  Here  it  is  proper  to  pass  on  to  the  next 
truth  inferred  from  the  text,  namely : 

III.  That  the  grand  pre-requisite  to  your  being  saved 
in  this  vv'^ay,  is  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  Though  the  ob- 
structions on  God's  part  are  removed  by  the  death  of 
Christ,  yet  there  is  one  remaining  in  the  sinner,  which 
cannot  be  removed  without  his  consent ;  and  which, 
while  it  remains,  renders  his  salvation  impossible  in  the 
nature  of  things  ;  that  is,  the  depravity  and  corruption 
of  his  nature.  Till  this  is  cured,  he  cannot  relish  those 
fruitions  and  employments  in  which  the  happiness  of 


TIIKOUGir    JESUS    CHRIST.  43 

heaven  consists,  and  consequently  he  cannot  be  happy 
there.  Therefore  there  is  a  necessity,  in  the  very  nature 
of  things,  that  he  should  be  made  holy,  in  order  to  be 
saved ;  nay,  his  salv'ation  itself  consists  in  holiness. 
Now,  faith  is  the  root  of  all  holiness  in  a  sinner.  With- 
out a  firm  realizing  belief  of  the  great  truths  of  the  gos- 
pel, it  is  impossible  a  sinner  should  be  sanctified  by  their 
influence:  and  without  a  particular  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
he  cannot  derive  from  him  those  sanctifying  influences 
by  which  alone  he  can  be  made  holy,  and  which  are  con- 
veyed through  Jesus  Christ,  and  through  him  alone. 

Further :  It  would  be  highly  incongruous,  and  indeed 
impossible,  to  save  a  sinner  against  his  will,  or  in  a  way 
he  dislikes.  Now  faith,  as  you  shall  see  presently,  prin- 
cipally consists  in  a  hearty  consent  to  and  approbation 
of  the  way  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ,  the  only 
■jv'ay  in  which  a  sinner  can  be  saved  consistently  with 
the  divme  honor :  so  that  the  constitution  of  the  gospel 
is  not  only  just,  but  as  merciful  as  it  can  be,  when  it  or- 
dains that  only  he  that  believeth  shall  be  saved  ;  but  that  he 
that  believeth  not^  shall  be  damned. 

Again :  We  cannot  be  saved  through  Jesus  Christ,  till 
his  righteousness  be  so  far  made  ours  as  that  it  will  an- 
swer the  demands  of  the  law  for  us,  and  procure  the 
favor  of  God  to  us ;  but  his  righteousness  cannot  be 
thus  imputed  to  us,  or  accounted  ours  in  law,  till  we  are 
so  united  to  him  as  to  be  one  in  law,  or  one  legal  per- 
son with  him.  Now  faith  is  the  bond  of  union  ,*  faith  is 
that  which  interests  us  in  Christ ;  and  therefore  without 
faith  we  cannot  receive  any  benefit  from  his  righteous- 
ness. 

Here  then  a  most  interesting  inquiiy  presents  itself: 
"What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  \  or  what  is  that 
faith  which  is  the  grand  pre-requisite  to  salvation  1"  If 
you  are  capable  of  attention  to  the  most  interesting  af- 
air  in  all  the  world,  attend  to  this  with  the  utmost  seri- 
ousness and  solemnity. 

Faith  in  Christ  includes  something  speculative  in  it ; 
that  is,  it  includes  a  speculative  rational  belief,  upon  the 
testimony  of  God,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  Savior 
of  men.  But  yet  it  is  not  entirely  a  speculation,  like 
the  faith  of  multitudes  among  us :  it  is  a  more  practical, 


■44  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

experimental  thing ;  and  that  you  may  understand  its  na- 
ture, you  must  take  notice  of  the  following  particulars. 

(1.)  Faith  pre-supposes  a  deep  sense  of  our  undone, 
helpless  condition.  I  told  you  before,  this  is  the  condi- 
tion of  the  world  without  Christ  ;  and  you  must  be  sen- 
sible at  heart  that  this  is  your  condition  in  particular, 
before  you  can  believe  in  him  as  your  Savior.  He 
came  to  be  a  Savior  in  a  desperate  case,  when  no  relief 
could  possibly  be  had  from  any  other  quarter,  and  you 
cannot  receive  him  under  that  character  till  you  feel 
yourselves  in  such  a  case  ;  therefore,  in  order  to  your 
believing,  all  your  pleas  and  excuses  for  your  sins  must 
be  silenced,  all  your  high  conceit  of  your  own  goodness 
must  be  mortified,  all  your  dependence  upon  your  own 
righteousness,  upon  the  merit  of  your  prayers,  your  re- 
pentance, and  good  works,  must  be  cast  down,  and  you 
must  feel  that  indeed  you  lie  at  mercy,  that  God  may 
justly  reject  you  for  ever,  and  that  all  you  can  do  can 
bring  him  under  no  obligation  to  save  you.  These 
things  you  must  be  deeply  sensible  of,  otherwise  you 
can  never  receive  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in  that  view  in 
which  he  is  proposed  to  you,  namely,  as  a  Savior  in  a 
desperate  case. 

I  wish  and  pray  you  may  this  day  see  yourselves  in 
this  true,  though  mortifying  light.  It  is  the  want  of  this 
sense  of  things  that  keeps  such  crowds  of  persons  unbe- 
lievers among  us.  It  is  the  want  of  this  that  causes  the 
Lord  Jesus  to  be  so  little  esteemed,  so  little  sought  for, 
so  little  desired  among  us.  In  short,  it  is  the  want  of 
this  that  is  the  great  occasion  of  so  many  perishing 
from  under  the  gospel,  and,  as  it  were,  from  between 
the  hands  of  a  Savior.  It  is  this,  alas !  that  causes 
them  to  perish,  like  the  impenitent  thief  on  the  cross, 
with  a  Savior  by  their  side.  0  that  you  once  rightly 
knew  yourselves,  you  would  then  soon  know  Jesus 
Christ,  and  receive  salvation  from  his  hand. 

(2.)  Faith  implies  the  enlightening  of  the  understand- 
ing to  discover  the  suitableness  of  Jesus  Christ  as  a 
Savior,  and  the  excellency  of  the  way  of  salvation 
through  him.  While  the  sinner  lies  undone  and  helpless 
in  himself,  and  looking  about  in  vain  for  some  relief,  it 
pleases  a  gracious  God  to  shine  into  his  heart,  and  ena- 
bles him  to  see  his  glory  in  the   face   of  Jesus  Christ. 


THKOUGII    JESUS    CHRIST.  45 

Now  this  once  neglected  Savior  appears  not  only  abso- 
lutely necessary,  but  also  all-glorious  and  lovely,  aivd  the 
sinner's  heart  is  wrapt  away,  and  for  ever  captivated 
with  his  beauty :  now  the  neglected  gospel  appears  in  a 
a  new  light,  as  different  from  all  his  former  apprehen- 
sions as  if  it  were  quite  another  thing.  I  have  not  time 
at  present  to  enlarge  upon  this  discovery  of  Christ  and 
the  gospel  which  faith  includes ;  and  indeed  should  I 
dwell  upon  it  ever  so  long,  I  could  not  convey  just  ideas 
of  it  to  such  of  you  as  have  never  had  the  happy  expe- 
rience of  it.  In  short,  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  the  way  of 
salvation  through  him,  appear  perfectly  suitable,  all- 
sufficient,  and  all-glorious  :  and  in  consequence  of  this, 

(3.)  The  sinner  is  enabled  to  embrace  this  Savior 
with  all  his  heart,  and  to  give  a  voluntary,  cheerful, 
consent  to  this  glorious  scheme  of  salvation.  Now  all 
his  former  unwillingness  and  reluctance  are  subdued, 
and  his  heart  no  more  draws  back  from  the  terms  of 
the  gospel,  but  he  complies  with  them,  and  that  not 
merely  out  of  constraint  and  necessity,  but  out  of  free 
choice,  and  Avith  the  greatest  pleasure  and  delight. 
How  does  his  heart  now  cling  to  the  blessed  Jesus  with 
the  most  affectionate  endearment !  How  is  he  lost  in 
wonder,  joy,  and  gratitude,  at  the  survey  of  the  divine 
perfections,  as  displayed  in  this  method  of  redemption ! 
How  does  he  rejoice  in  it,  as  not  only  bringing  happi- 
ness to  him,  but  glory  to  God ;  as  making  his  salvation 
not  only  consistent  with,  but  a  bright  illustration  of,  the 
divine  perfections,  and  the  dignity  of  his  government ! 
While  he  had  no  other  but  the  low  and  selfish  principles 
of  corrupt  nature,  he  had  no  concern  about  the  honor  of 
God  ;  if  he  might  be  but  saved,  it  was  all  he  was  solicit- 
ous about ;  but  now  he  has  a  noble,  generous  heart ;  now 
he  is  concerned  that  God  should  be  honored  in  his  sal- 
v^ation,  and  this  method  of  salvation  is  recommended  and 
endeared  to  him  by  the  thought  that  it  secures  to  God 
the  supremacy,  and  makes  his  salvation  subservient  to 
the  divine  glory. 

(4.)  Faith  in  Jesus  Christ  implies  an  humble  trust  or 
dependence  upon  him  alone  for  the  pardon  of  sin,  ac- 
ceptance with  God,  and  every  blessing.  As  I  told  you 
before,  the  sinner's  self-confidence  is  mortified ;  he 
gives  up  all  hopes  of  acceptance  upon  the  footing  of  his 


4|6  THE    METHOD    OF    S/\LVATI0:\' 

own  righteousness ;  he  is  filled  with  self-despair,  and 
yet  he  does  not  despair  absolutely ;  he  does  not  give  up 
himself  as  lost,  but  has  cheerful  hopes  of  becoming  a 
child  of  God,  and  being  forever  happy,  guilty  and 
unworthy  as  he  is ;  and  what  are  these  hopes  founded 
uponl  Why,  upon  the  mere  free  grace  and  mercy  of 
God,  through  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ.  On 
this  he  ventures  a  guilty,  unworthy,  helpless  soul,  and 
finds  it  a  firm,  immovable  foundation,  while  every  other 
ground  of  dependence  proves  but  a  quicksand.  There  are 
many  that  flatter  themselves  they  put  their  trust  in  God; 
but  their  trust  wants  sundry  qualifications  essential  to 
a  true  faith.  It  is  not  the  trust  of  an  humble  helpless 
soul  that  draws  all  its  encouragement  from  the  mere 
mercy  of  God,  and  the  free  indefinite  offer  of  the  gospel ; 
but  it  is  the  presumptuous  trust  of  a  proud  self-confident 
sinner,  who  draws  his  encouragement  in  part  at  least 
from  his  own  imaginary  goodness  and  importance.  It 
is  not  a  trust  in  the  mercy  of  God  through  Jesus 
Christ,  as  the  only  medium  through  which  it  can  be  ho- 
norably conveyed  j  but  either  in  the  absolute  mercy  of 
God,  which,  without  a  proper  reference  to  a  Mediator, 
or  in  his  mercy,  as  in  some  measure  deserved  or  moved 
by  something  in  the  sinner.  Examine  whether  your 
trust  in  God  will  stand  this  test. 

I  have  now  given  you  a  brief  answer  to  that  grand 
question,  What  is  it  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  ]  and  I 
hope  you  understand  it,  though  I  have  not  enlarged  so 
much  upon  it  as  I  willingly  would.  I  shall  only  add, 
that  this  faith  may  also  be  knowni  by  its  inseparable  ef- 
fects ;  which  are  such  as  follow.  Faith  purifies  the 
heart,  and  is  a  lively  principle  of  inward  holiness.  Faith 
is  always  productive  of  good  Avorks,  and  leads  us  to  uni- 
versal obedience :  faith  overcomes  the  world  and  all  its 
temptations :  faith  realizes  eternal  things,  and  brings 
them  near  ;  and  hence  it  is  defined  by  the  apostle,  The 
substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not 
seen.  Heb.  xi.  1.  Here  I  have  a  very  important  ques- 
tion to  propose  to  you :  Who  among  you  can  say, 
"  Well,  notwithstanding  all  my  imperfections,  and  all 
my  doubts  and  ^ears,  I  cannot  but  humbly  hope,  after 
the  best  exammauon  I  can  make,  that  such  a  faith  has 
been  produced  in  this  heart  of  mine  1"     And   can  you 


TllKOUGJI    JESi;S    CHRIST.  47 

say  so  indeed  1  Then  I  bring  you  glad  tidings  of  great 
joy ;  you  shall  be  saved :  yes,  saved  you  shall  be,  in 
spite  of  earth  and  hell;  saved,  however  great  your  past 
sins  have  been.  Which  thought  introduces  the  glorious 
truth  that  comes  next  in  order,  namely  :■ — 

IV.  My  text  implies,  that  every  one,  without  excep- 
tion, whatever  his  former  character  has  been,  that  is 
enabled  to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  shall  certainly  be 
saved. 

The  number  or  aggravations  of  sin  do  not  alter  the 
case  ;  and  the  reason  is,  the  sinner  is  not  received  into 
favor,  in  whole  or  in  part,  upon  the  account  of  any 
ihing  personal,  but  solely  and  entirely  upon  the  account 
of  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ.  Now,  this  righte- 
ousness is  perfectly  equal  to  all  the  demands  of  the  law  ; 
and  therefore,  when  this  righteousness  is  made  over  to 
the  sinner  as  his  by  imputation,  the  law  has  no  more  de- 
mands upon  him  for  great  sins  than  for  small,  for  many 
than  for  few  ;  because  all  demands  are  fully  satisfied  by 
the  obedience  of  Jesus  Christ  to  the  law.  You  see  that 
sinners  of  all  characters  who  believe  in  him  are  put  upon 
an  equality  in  this  respect :  they  are  all  admitted  upon 
one  common  footing,  the  righteousness  of  Christ ;  and 
that  is  as  sufficient  for  one  as  another. 

This  encouraging  truth  has  the  most  abundant  support 
from  the  holy  scriptures.  Observe  the  agreeable  in- 
definite whosoever  so  often  repeated.  "  Whosoever  be- 
lieveth  in  him,  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life."  Whosoever  he  be,  however  vile,  however  guilty, 
however  unworthy,  if  he  does  but  believe,  he  shall  not 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  What  an  agreeable 
assurance  is  this  from  the  lips  of  him  who  has  the  final 
states  of  men  at  his  disposal !  The  same  blessed  lips 
have  also  declared.  Him  that  cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  ovt.  John  vi.  37.  And  Whosoever  will,  let  him 
take  the  water  of  life  freely.  Rev.  xxii.  17.  He  has  given 
you  more  than  bare  words  to  establish  you  in  the  belief 
of  this  truth  ;  upon  this  principle  he  has  acted,  choosing 
some  of  the  most  abandoned  sinners  to  make  them  ex- 
amples, not  of  his  justice,  as  w^e  might  expect,  but  of  his 
mercy,  for  the  encouragement  of  others.  In  the  days  of 
his  flesh  he  was  reproached  by  his  enemies  for  his 
friendship  to  publicans  and  sinners ;   but  sure  it  is,  in- 


"46  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

stead  of  reproaching,  we  must  love  him  on  this  account. 
When  he  rose  from  the  dead,  he  did  not  rise  with  angry 
resentment  against  his  murderers ;  no,  but  he  singles 
them  out  from  a  world  of  sinners,  to  make  them  the  fl  st 
oflers  of  pardon  through  the  blood  which  they  had  juv  t 
shed.  He  orders  that  repentance  and  remission  of  sini>. 
should  be  preached  in  his  name  to  all  nations^  beginning  at 
Jerusalem.  Luke  xxiv.  47.  At  Jerusalem,  where  he  had 
been  crucified  a  few  days  before,  there  he  orders  the 
first  publication  of  pardon  and  life  to  be  made.  You  may 
see  what  monsters  of  sin  he  chose  to  make  the  monu- 
ments of  his  grace  in  Corinth.  J^either  fornicators^  nor 
idolators,  nor  adulterers^  nor  effeminate,  7ior  abusers  of 
themselves  with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor 
drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit  the 
kingdom  of  God.  What  a  dismal  catalogue  is  this  !  It  is 
no  wonder  such  a  crew  should  not  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  ;  they  are  fit  only  for  the  infernal  prison  ;  and 
yet  astonishing  !  it  follows,  such  were  some  of  you  ;  but 
ye  are  washed,  but  ye  are  sanctified,  but  ye  are  justified,  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God. 
1  Cor.  vi.  9 — 11.  W^hat  sinner  after  this  can  despair  of 
mercy  upon  his  believing  in  Jesus  !  St.  Paul  was  ano- 
ther instance  of  the  same  kind  :  "  This,"  says  he,  "  is  a 
faithful  saying,"  a  saying  that  may  be  depended  on  as 
true,  "  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,"  from  a  guilty 
world,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners, of  whom  I  am  chief :  howbeit,  for  this  cause  I  obtain- 
ed mercy,  that  in  me  the  chief,  Jesus  Christ  might  show 
forth  all  long  suffering,  for  a  pattern  to  them  which  should 
hereafter  believe  in  him  to  life  everlasting.  1  Tim.  i.  15,  16. 
A  sinner  of  less  size  would  not  have  answered  this  end 
so  well ;  but  if  Saul  the  persecutor  obtains  mercy  upon 
his  believing,  who  can  despair  1 

You  see  upon  the  whole,  my  brethren,  you  are  not  ex- 
cluded from  Christ  and  life  by  the  greatness  of  your 
sins  ;  but  if  you  perish  it  must  be  from  another  cause  : 
it  must  be  on  account  Of  your  wilful  unbelief  in  not  ac- 
cepting of  Jesus  Christ  as  your  Savior.  If  you  reject 
him,  then  indeed  you  must  perish,  however  small  your 
sins  have  been  ;  for  it  is  only  his  death  that  can  make 
atonement  for  the  slightest  guilt  j  and  if  you  have  no  in 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  49 

terest  in  that,  the  guilt  of  the  smallest  sin  wil'.  sink  you 
into  ruin. 

Here  is  a  door  wide  enough  for  you  all,  if  you  will  but 
enter  in  by  faith.  Come,  then,  enter  in,  you  that  have 
hitherto  claimed  a  horrid  precedence  in  sin,  that  have 
been  ringleaders  in  vice,  come  now  take  the  lead,  and 
show  others  the  way  to  Jesus  Christ  ;  harlots,  publicans, 
thieves,  and  murderers,  if  such  be  among  you,  there  is 
salvation  even  for  you,  if  you  will  but  believe.  O  !  how 
astonishing  is  the  love  of  God  discovered  in  this  way  :  a 
consideration  which  introduces  the  last  inference  from 
my  text,  namely, 

V.  That  the  constitution  of  this  method  of  salvation, 
or  the  mission  of  a  Savior  into  our  world,  is  a  most 
striking  and  astonishing  display  of  the  love  of  God  : — 
God  so  loved  the  world  as  to  give  his  only  begotten  Son,  S^c. 

View  the  scheme  all  through,  and  you  will  discover 
love,  infinite  love,  in  every  part  of  it.  Consider  the 
great  God  as  self-happy  and  independent  upon  all  his 
creatures,  and  what  but  love,  self-moved  love,  could  ex- 
cite him  to  make  such  provision  for  an  inferior  part  of 
them !  Consider  the  world  sunk  in  sin,  not  only  without 
merit,  but  most  deserving  of  everlasting  punishment,  and 
what  but  love  could  move  him  to  have  mercy  upon  such 
a  world  \  Consider  the  Savior  provided,  not  an  angel, 
not  the  highest  creature,  but  his  Son,  his  only  begotten 
Son  ;  and  what  but  love  could  move  him  to  appoint  such 
a  Savior  1  Consider  the  manner  in  which  he  was  sent, 
as  a  gift,  a  free  unmerited  gift  ;  "  God  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son  :"  And  what  but  infinite  love  could  give  such 
an  uns.peakable  gift  1  Consider  the  blessings  conferred 
through  this  Savior,  deliverance  from  perdition  and  the 
enjoyment  of  everlasting  life,  and  what  but  the  love  of 
God  could  confer  such  blessings  1  Consider  the  condi- 
tion upon  which  these  blessings  are  offered,  faith,  that 
humble,  self-emptied  grace,  so  suitable  to  the  circum 
stances  of  a  poor  sinner,  that  brings  nothing,  but  re- 
ceives all,  and  what  but  divine  love  could  make  such-  a 
gracious  appointment  1  It  is  by  faith^  that  it  may  be 
of  grace.  Rom.  iv.  16.  Consider  the  indefinite  extent  or 
the  universality  of  the  ofier,  which  takes  in  sinners  of 
/he  vilest  character,  and  excepts  against  none  :  WhosO'. 
tver  helieveth  shall  not  perish,  (Src.  O  wiiat  love  is  thj?! 
5 


60  THE    METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

But  I  must  leave  it  as  the  theme  of  your  meditations,  not 
only  in  the  house  of  your  pilgrimage,  but  through  all 
eternity  :  eternity  will  be  short  enough  to  pry  into  this 
mystery,  and  it  will  employ  the  understandings  of  men 
and  angels  through  the  revolutions  of  eternal  ages. 

And  now,  my  brethren,  to  draw  towards  a  conclusion, 
I  would  hold  a  treaty  with  you  this  day  about  the  recon- 
ciliation to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  this  day 
set  life  and  death  before  you  :  I  have  opened  to  you  the 
method  of  salvation  through  Jesus  Christ :  the  only 
method  in  which  you  can  be  saved ;  the  only  method 
that  could  afford  a  gleam  of  hope  to  such  a  sinner  as  I. 
in  my  late  approach  to  the  eternal  world.*  And  now 
[  would  bring  the  matter  home,  and  propose  it  to 
you  all  to  consent  to  be  saved  in  this  method,  or,  in 
other  words,  to  believe  in  the  only  begotten  Son  of 
God  5  this  proposal  1  seriously  make  to  you :  and  let 
heaven  and  earth,  and  your  own  consciences,  witness 
that  it  is  made  to  you :  I  also  insist  for  a  determinate 
answer  this  day ;  the  matter  will  not  admit  of  a  delay, 
and  the  duty  is  so  plain,  that  there  is  no  need  of  time  to 
deliberate.  A  Roman  ambassador,  treating  about  peace 
with  the  ambassador  of  a  neighboring  state,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  and  finding  him  desirous  to  gain  time  by 
shuffling  and  tedious  negotiations,  drew  a  circle  about 
him,  and  said,  "  I  demand  an  answer  before  you  go  out 
of  this  circle."  Such  a  circle  let  the  walls  of  this  house, 
or  the  extent  of  my  voice,  be  to  you  :  before  you  leave 
this  house,  or  go  out  of  hearing,  1  insist  on  a  full  decisive 
answer  of  this  proposal.  Whether  you  will  believe  in  Je- 
sus Christ  this  day,  or  not  1 

But  before  I  proceed  any  farther,  I  would  remove  on-e 
stum.bling-block  out  of  your  way.  You  are  apt  to  ob- 
ject, "  You  teach  us  that  faith  is  the  gift  of  God,  and 
that  we  cannot  believe  of  ourselves ;  why  then  do  you 
exhort  us  to  it  1  Or  how  can  we  be  concerned  to  en- 
deavor that  which  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  do  1" 

In  answer  to  this  I  grant  the  premises  are  true ;  and 
God  forbid  I  should  so  much  as  intimate  that  faith  is  the 
spontaneous  growth  of  corrupt  nature,  or  that  you  can 

*  This  sermon  was  preached  a  little  after  recovery  from  a  severe  fit  of 
sickness,  and  is  dated  Hanover..  October  2,  1757. 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  51 

come  to  Christ  without  the  Father's  drawing  you  :  but 
the  conclusions  you  draw  from  th-ese  premises  are  very 
erroneous.  I  exhort  and  persuade  you  to  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ,  because  it  is  Avhile  such  means  are  used 
with  sinners,  and  by  the  uses  of  them,  that  it  pleases 
God  to  enable  them  to  comply,  or  to  work  faith  in  them. 
I  would  therefore  use  those  means  which  God  is  pleas- 
ed to  bless  for  this  end.  I  exhort  you  to  believe  in  or- 
der to  set  you  upon  the  trial ;  for  it  is  putting  it  to  trial, 
and  that  only,  which  can  fully  convince  you  of  your  own 
inability  to  believe  ;  and  till  you  are  convinced  of  this, 
you  can  never  expect  strength  from  God.  I  exhort  you 
to  believe,  because,  sinful  and  enfeebled  as  you  are,  you 
are  capable  of  using  various  preparatives  to  faith.  You 
may  attend  upon  prayer,  hearing,  and  all  the  outward 
means  of  grace  with  natural  seriousness  ;  you  may  en- 
deavor to  get  acquainted  with  your  own  helpless  condi- 
tion, and,  as  it  were,  put  yourselves  in  the  way  of  divine 
mercy ;  and  though  all  these  means  cannot  of  them- 
selves produce  faith  in  you,  yet  it  is  only  in  the  use  of 
these  means  you  are  to  expect  divine  grace  to  work  it 
in  you  :  never  was  it  yet  produced  in  one  soul,  while  ly- 
ing supine,  lazy,  and  inactive. 

I  hope  you  now  see  good  reasons  why  I  should  exhort 
you  to  believe,  and  also  perceive  my  design  in  it ;  I 
therefore  renew  the  proposal  to  you,  that  you  should 
this  day,  as  guilty,  unworthy,  self-despairing  sinners, 
accept  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  as  your  Sav- 
ior, and  fail  in  with  the  gospel-method  of  salvation  ;  and 
I  once  more  demand  your  ansAver.  I  would  by  no  means, 
if  possible,  leave  the  pulpit  this  day  till  I  have  effectual- 
ly recommended  the  blessed  Jesus,  my  Lord  and  Mas- 
ter, to  your  acceptance.  I  am  strongly  bound  by  the 
vows  and  resolutions  of  a  sick  bed  to  recommend  him 
to  you  ;  and  now  I  would  endeavor  to  perform  my  vows. 
I  would  have  us  all  this  day,  before  we  part,  consent  to 
God's  covenant,  that  we  may  go  away  justified  to  our 
houses. 

To  this  I  persuade  and  exhort  you,  in  the  name  and 
by  the  authority  of  the  great  God,  by  the  death  of  Jesus 
Christ  for  sinners,  by  your  own  most  urgent  and  abso- 
lute necessity,  by  the  immense  blessings  proposed   in 


53  THE   METHOD    OF    SALVATION 

the  gospel,  and  by  the  heavy  curse  denounced  against 
unbelievers. 

All  the  blessmgs  of  the  gospel,  pardon  of  sin,  sancti- 
fying grace,  eternal  life,  and  whatever  you  can  want, 
shall  become  jrours  this  day,  if  you  but  believe  in  the 
Son  of  God ;  then  let  desolation  overrun  our  land,  let 
public  and  private  calamities  crowd  upon  you,  and  make 
you  so  many  Jobs  for  poverty  and  affliction,  still  your 
main  interest  is  secure  ;  the  storms  and  waves  of  trou- 
ble can  only  bear  you  to  heaven,  and  hasten  your  pas- 
sage to  the  harbor  of  eternal  rest.  Let  devils  accuse 
you  before  God,  let  conscience  indict  you  and  bring  you 
in  guilty,  let  the  fiery  law  make  its  demands  upon  you, 
you  have  a  righteousness  in  Jesus  Christ  that  is  suffi- 
cient to  answer  all  demands,  and,  having  received  it  by 
faith,  you  may  plead  it  as  your  own  in  law.  Happy 
souls !  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God,  for  your 
hope  will  never  make  you  ashamed  1 

But  I  expect,  as  usual,  some  of  you  will  refuse  to 
comply  with  this  proposal.  This,  alas !  has  been  the 
usual  fate  of  the  blessed  gospel  in  all  ages  and  in  all 
countries ;  as  some  have  received  it,  so  some  have  re- 
jected it.  That  old  complaint  of  Isaiah  has  been  justly 
repeated  thousands  of  times  ;  Who  hath  believed  our  re- 
port 1  and  to  whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  1  Isa. 
liii.  1.  And  is  there  no  reason  to  pour  it  out  from  a 
broken  heart  over  some  of  you,  my  dear  people  1  Are 
you  all  this  day  determined  to  believe  1  If  so,  I  pro- 
nounce you  blessed  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  but  if  not, 
I  must  denounce  your  doom. 

Be  it  known  to  you  then  from  the  living  God,  that  if 
you  thus  continue  in  unbelief,  you  shut  the  door  of 
mercy  against  yourselves,  and  exclude  yourselves  from 
eternal  life.  Whatever  splendid  appearances  of  virtue, 
whatever  amiable  qualities,  whatever  seeming  good 
works  you  have,  the  express  sentence  of  the  gospel  lies^ 
in  full  force  against  you,  He  that  believeth  not  shall  be 
damned.  Mark  xvi.  16.  He  that  believeth  not  is  condemned 
already^  because  he  hath  not  believed  on  the  only  begotten  Son 
of  God.  John  iii.  18.  He  that  believeth  not  shall  not  see 
life  ;  but  the  wrath  of  God  abideth  upon  him.  John  iii. 
36.     This  is  your  doom  repeatedly  pronounced  by  him 


THROUGH    JESUS    CHRIST.  53 

whom  you  must  o^vn  to  be  the  best  friend  of  human  na- 
ture ;  and  if  he  condemn,  who  can  justify  you  1 

Be  it  also  known  to  you,  that  you  will  not  only 
perish,  but  you  will  perish  with  peculiar  aggravations ; 
you  Avill  fall  with  no  common  ruin ;  you  w^ill  envy  the 
lot  of  heathens  who  perished  without  the  law ;  for  O  ! 
you  incur  the  peculiarly  enormous  guilt  of  rejecting  the 
gospel,  and  putting  contempt  upon  the  Son  of  God. 
This  is  a  horrid  exploit  of  wickedness,  and  this  God  re- 
sents above  all  the  other  crimes  of  which  human  nature 
is  capable.  Hence  Christ  is  come  for  judgment  as  well 
as  for  mercy  into  this  world,  and  he  is  set  for  the  fall  as 
well  as  the  rising  again  of  many  in  Israel.  You  now 
enjoy  the  light  of  the  gospel,  which  has  conducted 
many  through  this  dark  Avorld  to  eternal  day  ;  but  re- 
member also,  this  is  the  condemnation ;  that  is,  it  is  the 
occasion  of  the  most  aggravated  condemnation,  that 
light  is  come  into  the  world^  and  men  love  darkness  rather 
than  light.  On  this  principle  Jesus  pronounced  the 
doom  of  Chorazin  and  Bethsaida  more  intolerable  than 
that  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.  Matt.  xi.  21,  22.  And 
would  it  not  be  hard  to  find  a  place  in  Virginia  where 
the"  doom  of  unbelievers  is  likely  to  be  so  terrible  as 
among  us  % 

And  now  does  not  all  this  move  you  1  Are  you  not 
alarmed  at  the  thought  of  perishing  ;  of  perishing  by  the 
hand  of  a  Savior  rejected  and  despised;  perishing  under 
the  stain  of  his  profaned  blood  ;  perishing  not  only  un- 
der the  curse  of  the  law,  but  under  that  of  the  gospel, 
which  is  vastly  heavier  %  O  !  are  you  hardy  enough  to 
venture  upon  such  a  doom  %  This  doom  is  unavoidable 
if  you  refuse  to  comply  with  the  proposal  now  made  to 
you. 

I  must  now  conclude  the  treaty  ;  but  for  my  own  ac- 
quaittance,  I  must  take  witness  that  I  have  endeavored 
to  discharge  my  commission,  whatever  reception  you 
give  it.  I  call  heaven  and  earth,  and  your  own  conscien- 
ces to  witness,  that  life  and  salvation,  through  Jesus 
Christ,  have  been  offered  to  you  on  this  day  ;  and  if  you 
reject  it,  remember  it  j  remember  it  w^ienever  yow  see 
this  place  ;  remember  it  whenever  you  see  my  face,  or 
one  another  ;  remember  it,  that  you  may  witness  for 
me  at  the  supreme  tribunal,  that  I  am  clear  of  your 
5*- 


54i        SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

blood.  Alas!  you  will  remember  it  among  a  thousand 
painful  reflections  millions  of  ages  hence,  when  the  re- 
membrance of  it  will  rend  your  hearts  like  a  vulture. 
Many  sermons  forgotten  upon  earth  are  remembered  in 
hell,  and  haunt  the  guilty  mind  for  ever.  O  that  you 
would  believe,  and  so  prevent  this  dreadful  effect  from 
the  present  sermon ! 


SERMON  III. 

SINNERS  ENTREATED  TO  BE  RECONCILED  TO  GOD. 

2  CoR.  V.  20. — We  then  are  ambassadors  for  Christy  as 
though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us  :  ive  pray  you  in 
Christ'' s  steady  be  ye  reconciled  to  God. 

To  preside  in  the  solemnities  of  public  worship,  t'o 
direct  your  thoughts,  and  choose  for  you  the  subjects  of 
your  meditation  on  those  sacred  hours  which  you  spend 
in  the  house  of  God,  and  upon  the  right  improvement 
of  which  your  everlasting  happiness  so  much  depends, 
this  is  a  province  of  the  most  tremendous  importance 
that  can  be  devolved  upon  a  mortal  ;  and  every  man  of 
the  sacred  character,  who  knows  what  he  is  about, 
must  tremble  at  the  thought,  and  be  often  anxiously 
perplexed  what  subject  he  shall  choose,  what  he  shall 
say  upon  it,  and  in  what  manner  he  shall  deliver  his 
message.  His  success  in  a  great  measure  depends 
upon  his  choice,  for  though  the  blessed  Spirit  is  the  pro- 
per agent,  and  though  the  best  means,  without  his  effi- 
cacious concurrence,  are  altogether  fruitless,  yet  he  is 
wont  to  bless  those  means  that  are  best  adapted  to  do 
good  ;  and  after  a  long  course  of  languid  and  fruitless 
efforts,  which  seem  to  have  been  unusually  disowned  by 
my  divine  Master,  what  text  shall  I  choose  out  of  the 
inexhaustible  treasure  of  God's  word  %  In  what  new 
method  shall  I  speak  upon  it  1  "What  new  untried  ex- 
periments shall  I  make  1  Blessed  Jesus!  my  heavenlv 
Master  !  direct  thy  poor  perplexed  servant  who  is  at  a 


SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         {}{) 

loss,  and  knows  not  what  to  do  ;  direct  him  that  has 
tried,  and  tried  again,  all  the  expedients  he  could  think 
of,  but  almost  in  vain,  and  now  scarcely  knows  what  it 
is  to  hope  for  success !  Divine  direction,  my  brethren, 
has  been  sought ;  and  may  I  hope  it  is  that  which  has 
turned  my  mind  to  address  you  this  day  on  the  import- 
ant subject  of  your  reconciliation  to  God,  and  to  become 
an  humble  imitator  of  the  great  St.  Paul,  whose  affect- 
ing words  I  have  read  to  you.  We  then  are  ambassadors 
for  Christy  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  tis  ;  we  pray 
you  in  Christ^s  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God. 

The  introduction  to  this  passage  you  find  in  the  fore- 
going verses,  God  hath  given  to  us  (the  apostles)  the  min- 
istry of  reconciliation  ;  the  sum  and  substance  of  which 
is,  namely,  "  That  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the 
world  unto  himself,  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto 
them."  As  if  he  had  said,  "  The  great  Sovereign  of  the 
universe,  though  highly  provoked,  and  justly  displeased 
with  our  rebellious  world,  has  been  so  gracious  as  to 
contrive  a  plan  of  reconciliation  whereby  they  may  not 
only  escape  the  punishment  they  deserve,  but  also  be 
restored  to  the  favor  of  God,  and  all  the  privileges  of 
his  favorite  subjects.  This  plan  was  laid  in  Christ ; 
that  is,  it  was  he  who  was  appointed,  and  undertook  to 
remove  all  obstacles  out  of  the  way  of  their  reconcilia- 
tion, so  that  it  might  be  consistent  with  the  honor  and 
dignity  of  God  and  his  Government.  This  he  perform- 
ed by  a  life  of  perfect  obedience,  and  an  atoning  death, 
instead  of  rebellious  man.  Though  "  he  knew  no  sin" 
of  his  ow^n :  yet  "  he  was  made  sin,"  that  is,  a  sin-oifer- 
mg,  or  a  sinner  by  imputation  "  for  us,"  that  we  might 
"  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him."  Thus  all 
hindrances  are  removed  on  God's  part.  The  plan  of  a 
treaty  of  reconciliation  is  formed,  approved,  and  ratified 
in  the  court  of  heaven ;  but  then  it  must  be  published,  all 
the  terms  made  known,  and  the  consent  of  the  rebels 
solicited  and  gained.  It  is  not  enough  that  all  impedi- 
ments to  peace  are  removed  on  God's  part  ;  they  must 
also  be  removed  on  the  part  of  man  ;  the  reconciliation 
must  be  mutual ;  both  the  parties  must  agree.  Hence 
arises  the  necessity  of  the  ministry  of  reconciliation 
which  was  committed  to  the  apostles,  those  prime  min- 
isters of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  and  in  a  lower  sphere  to 


56       SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

the  ordinary  ministers  of  the  gospel  in  every  age.  The 
great  business  of  their  office  is  to  publish  the  treaty  of 
peace  5  that  is,  the  articles  of  reconciliation,  and  to  use 
every  motive  to  gain  the  consent  of  mankind  to  these 
articles.  It  is  this  office  St.  Paul  is  discharging,  when 
he  says,  JVe  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though  God  did 
beseech  you  by  us  ;  we  pray  you  in  Christ^ s  stead,  be  ye  re- 
conciled to  God. 

We  are  ambassadors  for  Christ.  The  proper  notion  of 
an  ambassador,  is  that  of  a  person  sent  by  a  king  to 
transact  affairs  in  his  name,  and  according  to  his  in- 
structions, with  foreign  states,  or  part  of  his  sub- 
jects, to  whom  he  does  not  think  proper  to  go  himself 
and  treat  with  them  in  his  own  person.  Thus  a  peace 
is  generally  concluded  between  contending  nations,  not 
by  their  kings  in  person,  but  by  their  plenipotentiaries, 
acting  in  their  name,  and  by  their  authority  ;  and,  while 
they  keep  to  their  instructions,  their  negotiations 
and  agreements  are  as  valid  and  authentic  as  if  they 
were  carried  on  and  concluded  by  their  masters  in  per- 
son. Thus  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  not  personally 
present  in  our  world  to  manage  the  treaty  of  peace  him- 
self, but  he  has  appointed  first  his  apostles,  and  then  the 
ministers  of  the  gospel  through  every  age,  to  carry  it 
on  in  his  name.  This  is  their  proper  character  j  they 
are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  his  plenipotentiaries,  fur- 
nished with  a  commission  and  instructions  to  make 
overtures  of  reconciliation  to  a  rebel  w^orld,  and  treat 
with  them  to  gain  their  consent. 

Indeed,  aspiring  ecclesiastics  have  assumed  high 
sounding  titles  merely  to  produce  extravagant  honors  to 
themselves.  They  have  called  themselves  the  ambassa- 
dors of  Christ,  messengers  from  God,  the  plenipotentia- 
ries and  vicero^^s  of  heaven,  and  I  know  not  what,  not 
with  a  design  to  do  honor  to  their  Master,  but  to  keep 
the  Avorld  in  a  superstitious  awe  of  themselves.  This 
priestly  pride  and  insolence  I  utterly  abhor  ;  and  yet  I 
humbly  adventure  to  assume  the  title  of  an  ambassador 
of  the  great  King  of  heaven,  and  require  you  to  regard 
me  in  this  high  character :  but  then  you  must  know, 
that  while  I  am  making  this  claim,  I  ov\ti  myself  obliged 
inviolably  to  adhere  to  the  instructions  of  my  divine 
Master  contained  in  the  Bible.     I  have  no  power  over 


SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    EE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.  57 

your  faith,  no  power  to  dictate  or  prescribe  ;  but  my 
work  is  only  just  to  publish  the  articles  of  peace  as  my 
Master  has  established  and  revealed  them  in  his  word, 
without  the  least  addition,  diminution,  or  alteration.  I 
pretend  to  no  higher  power  than  this,  and  this  power  I 
must  claim,  unless  I  would  renounce  my  office  ;  for  who 
can  consistently  profess  himself  a  minister  of  Christ, 
without  asserting  his  right  and  power  to  publish  what 
his  Lord  has  taught,  and  communicate  his  royal  instruc- 
tions ( 

Therefore  without  usurping  an  equality  with  St. 
Paul,  or  his  fellow  apostles,  I  must  tell  you  in  his  lan- 
guage, I  appear  among  you  this  day  as  the  ambassador 
of  the  most  high  God  ;  I  am  discharging  an  embassy  for 
Christ  ;*  and  I  tell  you  this  with  no  other  design  than  to 
procure  your  most  serious  regard  to  what  I  say.  If  you 
consider  it  only  as  my  declaration,  whatever  regard  you 
pay  to  it,  the  end  of  my  ministry  will  not  be  answered 
upon  you.  The  end  of  my  office  is  not  to  make  myself 
the  object  of  your  love  and  veneration,  but  to  reconcile 
you  to  God ;  but  you  cannot  be  reconciled  to  God 
while  you  consider  the  proposal  as  made  to  you  only 
by  your  fellow  mortal.  You  must  regard  it  as  made  to 
you  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  great  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man.  I  not  only  allow,  but  even  invite 
and  charge  you  to  inquire  and  judge  whether  what  I  say 
be  agreeable  to  my  divine  instructions,  which  are  as 
open  to  your  inspection  as  mine,  and  to  regard  it  no  far- 
ther than  it  is  so  :  but  if  I  follow  these  instructions,  and 
propose  the  treaty  of  peace  to  you  just  as  it  is  conclud- 
ed in  heaven,  then  I  charge  you  to  regard  it  as  proposed 
by  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  the  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords,  though  through  my  unworthy  lips.  Con- 
sider yourselves  this  day  as  the  hearers  not  of  a  preach- 
er formed  out  of  the  clay  like  yourselves,  but  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Suppose  him  here  in  person  treat- 
ing with  you  about  your  reconciliation  to  God,  and 
what  regard  you  would  pay  to  a  proposal  made  by  him  in 
person,  with  all  his  divine  royalties  about  him,  that  you 
should  now  show  to  the  treaty  I  am  to  negotiate  with 
you  in  his  name  and  stead. 

♦  This  is  the  most  literal  translation  of  w  peaPv  vficp   tri^  X^*'* 


58      SINNERS   ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD, 

The  next  sentence  in  my  text  binds  you  still  more 
strongly  to  this ;  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us. 
As  if  he  had  said,  "  God  the  Father  also  concurs  in  this 
treaty  of  peace,  as  well  as  Christ  the  great  Peace-maker  ; 
and  as  we  discharge  an  embassy  for  Christ,  so  we  do 
also  for  God  ;  and  you  are  to  regard  our  beseeching  and 
exhorting,*  as  though  the  great  God  did  in  person  be- 
seech and  exhort  you  by  us,"  What  astonishing  con- 
descension is  here  intimated !  not  that  the  ministers  of 
Christ  should  beseech  you  ;  this  would  be  no  mighty 
condescension  :  but  that  the  supreme  Jehovah  should 
beseech  you  ;  that  he  should  not  only  command  you 
with  a  stern  air  of  authority  as  your  Sovereign,  but  as  a 
friend,  nay,  as  a  petitioner,  should  affectionately  beseech 
you,  you  despicable,  guilty  worms,  obnoxious  rebels  ! 
How  astonishing,  how  God-like,  how  unprecedented  and 
inimitable  is  this  condescension  !  Let  heaven  and  earth 
admire  and  adore  !  It  is  by  us,  indeed,  by  us  your  poor 
fellow  mortals,  that  he  beseeches  :  but  0  !  let  not  this 
tempt  you  to  disregard  him  or  his  entreaty  :  though  he 
employs  such  mean  ambassadors,  yet  consider  his  dig- 
nity who  sends  us,  and  then  you  cannot  disregard  his 
message  even  from  our  mouth. 

The  apostle,  having  thus  prepared  the  way,  proceeds 
to  the  actual  exercise  of  his  office  as  an  ambassador  for 
Christ :  We  pray  you,  says  he,  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye  re- 
conciled to  God.  As  if  he  had  said,  "  If  Christ  were  now 
present  in  person  among  you,  this  is  what  he  would  pro- 
pose to  you,  and  urge  upon  you,  that  you  would  be  re- 
conciled to  God  :  but  him  the  heavens  must  receive  till 
the  time  of  the  restitution  of  all  things ;  but  he  has  left 
us  his  poor  servants  to  officiate  in  his  place  as  well  as  we 
can,  and  we  would  prosecute  the  same  design,  we  would 
urge  upon  you  what  he  would  urge,  were  he  to  speak  ; 
therefore  we  pray  you,  in  his  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to 
God  :  we  earnestly  pray  you  to  be  reconciled ;  that  is 
the  utmost  which  such  feeble  worms  as  we  can  do  ;  we 
can  only  pray  and  beg,  but  your  compliance  is  not  with- 
in the  command  of  our  power  ;  the  compliance  belongs 
to  you  5  and  remember,  if  you  refuse,  you  must  take  ii 
upon  yourselves,  and  answer  the  consequence." 

*  cj«(5a*rX«i/r»c  Signifies  exhorting  as  well  as  beseeching 


SIN?xERS    ENTREATED    1  J    EE    RECONCILED    TO    GOI».         59 

Havinor  thus  explained  the  text,  I  proceed  m  my  poor 
manner  to  exemplify  it  by  negotiating  the  treaty  with 
you  for  your  reconciliation  to  God  j  and  you  see  my 
business  lies  directly  with  such  of  you  as  are  yet  ene- 
mies to  God  :  you  are  the  only  persons  that  stand  in 
need  of  reconciliation.  As  for  such  of  you  (and  I  doubt 
not  but  there  are  such  among  you)  whose  innate  enmi- 
ty has  been  subdued,  and  who  are  become  the  friends 
and  subjects  of  the  King  of  heaven  after  your  guilty  re- 
volt, I  must  desire  you  as  it  were  to  stand  by  yourselves 
for  the  present  hour,  and  help  me  by  your  prayers, 
while  I  am  speaking  to  your  poor  brethren,  who  still 
continue  in  that  state  of  hostility  and  rebellion  against 
God,  in  which  you  once  were,  and  the  miseries  of  which 
you  well  know,  and  still  lament  and  deplore. 

But  by  this  proposal  I  am  afraid  I  have  deprived  my- 
self of  hearers  on  this  subject ;  for  have  you  not  alrea- 
dy placed  yourselves  among  the  lovers  of  God,  who 
consequently  do  not  need  to  be  reconciled  to  him  1  Is 
not  every  one  of  you  ready  to  say  to  me,  "  If  your  busi- 
ness only  lies  with  the  enemies  of  God,  you  have  no 
concern  with  me  in  this  discourse  5  for,  God  forbid  that 
I  should  be  an  enemy  to  him.  I  have  indeed  been  guil- 
ty of  a  great  m^any  sins,  but  I  had  no  bad  design  in 
them,  and  never  had  the  least  enmity  against  my  Maker ; 
so  far  from  it  that  I  shudder  at  the  very  thought !"  This 
is  the  first  obstacle  that  I  meet  with  in  discharging  my  em- 
bassy ;  the  embassy  itself  is  looked  upon  as  needless  by 
the  persons  concerned,  like  an  attempt  to  reconcile 
those  that  are  good  friends  already.  This  obstacle  must 
be  removed  before  we  can  proceed  any  farther. 

I  am  far  from  charging  any  of  you  with  so  horrid  a 
crime  as  enmity  and  rebellion  against  God,  who  can 
produce  satisfactory  evidences  to  your  OAvn  conscience 
that  you  are  his  friends.  I  only  desire  that  you  would 
not  flatter  yourselves,  nor  draw  a  rash  and  groundless 
conclusion  in  an  affair  of  such  infinite  moment,  but  that 
you  would  put  the  matter  to  a  fair  trial,  according  to 
evidence,  and  then  let  your  conscience  pass  an  impartial 
sentence  as  your  judge,  under  the  supreme  Judge  of  the 
world. 

You  plead  "  not  guilty"  to  the  charge,  and  alledge  that 
you  have  always   loved    God ;  but  if  this  he  the  case, 


60      SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    EE    RECONCILED     TO    GOD. 

whence  is  it  that  you  have  afforded  him  so  few  of  your 
affectionate  and  warm  thoughts  1  Do  not  your  tender- 
est  thoughts  d^vell  upon  the  objects  of  your  love  1  But 
has  not  your  mind  been  shy  of  him  who  gave  you  your 
power  of  thinking  1  Have  you  not  lived  stupidly 
thoughtless  of  him  for  days  and  weeks  together!  Naj', 
have  not  serious  thoughts  of  him  been  unwelcome,  and 
made  you  uneasy  1  and  have  you  not  turned  every  way 
to  avoid  them  1  Have  you  not  often  prayed  to  him,  and 
concurred  in  other  acts  of  religious  w^orship,  and  yet 
had  but  very  few  or  no  devout  thoughts  of  him,  even  at 
the  very  time  1  And  is  that  mind  well  affected  towards 
him  that  is  so  averse  to  him,  and  turns  every  way  to 
shun  a  glance  of  him  1  Alas  !  is  this  your  friendship 
for  the  God  that  made  you,  whose  you  are,  and  whom 
you  ought  to  serve  ! 

Would  you  not  have  indulged  the  fool's  wish,  that 
there  were  no  God,  had  not  the  horror  and  impossibility 
of  the  thing  restrained  you  1  But,  notwithstanding  this 
restraint,  has  not  this  blasphemy  shed  its  malignant  poison 
at  times  in  your  hearts  1  If  there  was  no  God,  then  you 
would  sin  without  control,  and  without  dread  of  punish- 
ment ;  and  how  sweet  was  this  !  Then  you  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  that  melancholy  thing,  religion  ;  and 
what  an  agreeable  exemption  would  this  be  %  But  is  this 
your  love  for  him,  to  wish  the  Parent  of  all  beings  out 
of  being  !     Alas  !  can  the  rankest  enmity  rise  higher  1 

Again,  if  you  are  reconciled  to  God,  whence  is  it  that 
you  are  secretly,  or  perhaps  openly  disaffected  to  his 
image,  I  mean  the  purity  and  strictness  of  his  law,  and 
the  lineaments  of  holiness  that  appear  upon  the  un- 
fashionable religious  few  1  If  you  loved  God,  you 
would  of  course  love  everything  that  bears  any  resem- 
blance to  him.  But  are  you  not  conscious  that  it  is 
otherwise  with  you  ;  that  you  murmur  and  cavil  at  the 
restraints  of  God's  law,  and  would  much  rather  abjure 
it,  be  free  from  it,  and  live  as  you  list  1  Are  you  not  con- 
scious that  nothing  exposes  a  man  more  to  your  secret 
disgust  and  contempt,  and  perhaps  to  your  public  mock- 
ery and  ridicule,  than  a  strict  and  holy  walk,  and  a  con- 
scientious observance  of  the  duties  of  devotion  1  And 
if  you  catch  your  neighbor  in  any  of  these  offences,  do 
i|pt  your  hearts  rise  against   hi|ii  ?  and  what  }s  this  but 


SINNERS    ENTREATEP    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOB  i',  I 

the  effect  of  your  enmity  against  God  1  Do  you  thus 
disgust  a  man  for  wearing  the  genuine  image  and  re- 
semblance of  your  friend  1  No  j  the  effect  of  love  is 
quite  the  reverse. 

Again,  If  you  do  but  reflect  upon  the  daily  sensations 
of  your  own  minds,  must  you  not  be  conscious  that  you 
love  other  persons  and  things  more  than  God  1  that  you 
love  pleasure,  honor,  riches,  your   relations  and  friends, 
more  than  the   glorious  and  ever  blessed  God  1     Look 
into  your  own  hearts,  and  you  will  find  it  so  ;  you  will 
find  that  this,  and  that,  and  a  thousand  things   in  this 
world,  engross  more  of  your  thoughts,   your  cares,  de- 
sires, joys,  sorrows,  hopes,  and  fears,  than   God,  or  any 
of  his  concerns.     Now  it  is   essential  to  the  love   of 
God  that  it  be  supreme.     You  do  not  love  him  truly  at 
all,  in  the  least  degree,  if  you  do  not  love  him  above  all ; 
above  all  persons  and  things  in  the  whole  universe.    He 
is  a  jealous  God,  and  will  not  suffer  a  rival.     A  lower 
degree  of  love  for  supreme  excellence  is  an  aflront  and 
indignity.    Is  it  not  therefore  evident,  even  to  your  own 
conviction,  that  you  do  not  love  God  at  all  1  and  what 
is  this  but  to  be  his  enemy  1     To  be  indifferent  towards 
him,  as  though  he  were  an  insignificant  being,  neither 
good  nor  evil,  a  mere   cipher ;  to  feel  neither  love  nor 
hatred  towards  him,  but  to  neglect  him,  as  if  you  had  no 
concern  with  him   one  way  or   other  ;  what  a  horrible 
disposition  is  this  towards  him,  who   is  supremely  and 
infinitely    glorious    and    amiable,    your    Creator,    your 
Sovereign,    and   Benefactor  ;    v/ho    therefore    deserves 
and  demands  your  highest  love  ;  or,  in  the  words  of  his 
own  law,  that  you  should  love  him  with  all  your  hearty 
with  all  your  soul,  with  all  your   ?nind,  and  with  all   your 
strength.  Mark  xii.  30.  From  what  can  such  indifferency 
towards  him  proceed  but  from  disaffection  and  enmity  1 
It  is  in  this  way  that  the  enmity  of  men  towards  God 
most  generally  discovers  itself.     They  feel,  perhaps,  no 
positive  workings  of  hatred  towards  him,  unless  when 
their  innate  corruption,  like   an  exasperated   serpent,  is 
irritated  by  conviction  from  his  law  ;  but   they  feel  an 
apathy,  a  listlessness,  an  indifferency  towards  him  ;  and 
because  they  feel  no  more,  they  flatter  themselves  they 
are  far  from  hating  him ;  especially  as  they  may  have 
very  honorable  speculative  thoughts  of  him  floating  on 
6 


62      SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

the  surface  of  their  minds.  But  alas  !  this  very  thing, 
this  indifferency,  or  listless  neutrality,  is  the  very  core 
of  their  enmity  ;  and  if  they  are  thus  indifferent  to  him 
now,  while  enjoying  so  many  blessings  from  his  hand, 
and  while  he  delays  their  punishment,  how  will  their 
enmity  swell  and  rise  to  all  the  rage  of  a  devil  against 
him,  when  he  puts  forth  his  vindictive  hand  and  touches 
them,  and  so  gives  occasion  to  it  to  discover  its  venom  1 
My  soul  shudders  to  think  what  horrid  insurrections  and 
direct  rebellion  this  temper  will  produce  when  once 
irritated,  and  all  restraints  are  taken  off;  which  will  be 
the  doom  of  sinners  in  the  eternal  world  ;  and  then  they 
will  have  no  more  of  the  love  of  God  in  them  than  the 
most  malignant  devil  in  hell !  If,  therefore,  you  gene- 
rally feel  such  an  indifferency  towards  God,  be  assured 
you  are  not  reconciled  to  him,  but  are  his  enemies  in 
your  hearts. 

Again,  All  moral  evil,  or  sin,  is  contrary  to  God ;  it 
is  the  only  thing  upon  earth,  or  in  hell,  that  is  most 
opposite  to  his  holy  nature  ;  and  the  object  of  his  im- 
placable and  eternal  indignation.  He  is  of  purer  eyes 
than  to  behold  it  or  endure  it.  It  is  his  hatred  to  sin 
that  has  turned  his  heart  against  any  of  his  creatures, 
and  is  the  cause  of  all  the  vengeance  that  he  has  inflicted 
upon  the  guilty  inhabitants  of  our  world,  or  the  spirits 
of  hell.  There  is  no  object  in  the  whole  compass  of  the 
universe  so  odious  to  you  as  every  sin  is  to  a  pure  and 
all-holy  God :  now  it  is  impossible  you  should  at  once 
love  two  things  so  opposite,  so  eternally  irreconcilable. 
As  much  love  as  you  have  for  any  unlawful  pleasure, 
just  so  much  enmity  there  is  in  your  hearts  towards 
God.  Hence,  says  St.  Paul,  you  were  enemies  in  your 
minds,  by  wicked  works.  Col.  i.  21.  Intimating  that  the 
love  and  practice  of  our  wicked  works  is  a  plain  evi- 
dence of  inward  enmity  of  mind  towards  God.  The 
works  of  the  flesh  are  sinful :  hence,  says  the  same 
apostle,  the  carnal  mind,  or  the  minding  of  the  flesh, 
(},p<ii-f-,i,a  aapK^i,  Rom.  viii.  7,  is  enmity  against  God ;  it  is  not 
subject  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  ca?i  be :  so  t/ien 
they  that  are  in  the  flesh,  or  under  the  power  of  a  carnal 
mind,  cannot  please  God.  Rom.  viii.  8.  Because,  what 
ever  seeming  acts  of  obedience  they  perform,  and  what- 
ever appearances  of  friendship  they  put  on,  they  are  at 


SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         63 

heart  enemies  to  God,  and  therefore  cannot  please  Hm, 
who  searches  their  heart,  and  sees  the  secret  principle 
of  their  actions.  Hence  also  St.  James  tells  us,  that  if 
any  man  would  be  a  friend  to  the  world^  he  is  the  enemy  of 
God,  because  the  friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity  against 
God.  James  iv.  4.  For  the  world  inflames  the  lusts  of 
men,  and  occasions  much  sin  ;  and  if  we  love  the 
tempter,  we  love  the  sin  to  which  it  would  allure  us  ; 
and  if  we  love  the  sin,  we  are  the  enemies  of  God  ;  and 
therefore  the  friendship  of  the  world  is  enmity  against 
God.  This  then  is  an  established  maxim,  without  strain- 
ing the  matter  too  far,  that  as  far  as  you  love  any  sin,  so 
far  are  you  enemies  to  God.  The  love,  as  well  as  the 
service  of  such  opposite  masters,  is  utterly  inconsist- 
ent. Now,  do  not  your  own  consciences  witness 
against  you,  that  you  have  indulged,  and  still  do  habit- 
ually indulge  the  love  of  some  sin  or  other  1  Whether 
it  be  covetousness  or  sensual  pleasure,  or  ambition,  or 
some  angry  passion,  or  whatever  sin  it  be,  as  far  as  you 
love  it,  so  far  you  are  enemies  to  God  :  and  if  you  take 
a  view  of  your  temper  and  practice,  must  you  not  una- 
voidably be  convicted  of  this  dreadful  guilt  \  Horrible 
as  the  crime  is,  is  it  not  an  undeniable  matter  of  fact, 
that  you  do  really  love  some  sin,  and  consequently  hate 
the  infinitely  amiable  and  ever  blessed  God  %  and  there- 
fore you  are  the  persons  I  have  to  deal  with,  as  needing 
reconciliation  with  God. 

Farther,  take  a  view  of  your  general  manner  of  serv- 
ing God  in  the  duties  of  religion :  your  manner  of 
praying,  meditation,  hearing  the  word  of  God,  and 
other  acts  of  devotion,  and  then  inquire.  Do  you  perform 
this  service  as  the  willing  servants  of  a  master  you  love  1 
Do  you  not  enter  upon  such  service  with  reluctance  or 
listlessness,  and  perform  it  with  languor  and  indifierency 
as  a  business  to  which  you  have  no  heart  1  But  is  this 
your  manner  of  performing  a  labor  of  love  to  a  friend  ? 
Will  your  OAvn  reason  sutler  you  to  think  you  would  be 
so  luke-warm  and  heartless  in  the  worship  of  God  if 
you  sincerely  loved  him  1  No  ;  love  is  an  active  prin- 
ciple, a  vigorous  spring  of  action  ;  and  if  this  were  the 
principle  of  your  religious  services,  you  would  infuse 
more  spirit  and  life  into  them,  you  would  exert  all  your 


04«      SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

powers,  and  be  fervent  in  spirit^  serving  the  Lord.      Rom 
xii.  11. 

But  when  you  have  performed  offices  of  devotion  with 
some  degree  of  earnestness,  which  no  doubt  you  have 
sometimes  done,  what  was  the  principle  or  spring  of 
your  exertion  1  Was  it  the  love  of  God  %  or  was  it 
purely  the  low  principle  of  self-love  %  Why  did  you 
pray  with  such  eager  importunity,  and  attend  upon  the 
other  means  of  grace  with  so  much  seriousness,  but  be- 
cause you  apprehended  your  dear  selves  were  in  danger, 
and  you  were  not  willing  to  be  miserable  for  ever  % 
This  servile,  mercenary  kind  of  religious  earnestness 
will  not  prove  that  you  love  God,  but  only  that  you  love 
yourselves  ;  and  this  you  may  do,  and  yet  have  no  more 
true  goodness,  or  genuine  love  to  God  than  an  infernal 
spirit  ;  for  there  is  not  a  spirit  in  hell  but  what  loves 
himself.  Indeed,  self-love  is  so  far  from  being  an  evi- 
dence of  the  love  of  God,  that  the  extravagant  excess  of 
it  is  the  source  of  that  wickedness  that  abounds  among 
men  and  devils.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  utterly  to  ex- 
clude self-love  out  of  genuine  religion  ;  it  must  have  its 
place  in  the  most  excellent  and  best  beings,  but  then  it 
must  be  kept  in  a  proper  subordination,  and  not  advance 
the  creature  above  the  Creator,  and  dethrone  the  su- 
preme King  of  the  universe.  His  love  must  be  upper- 
most in  the  heart,  and  when  that  has  the  highest  place, 
the  indulgence  of  self-love  in  pursuing  our  own  happi- 
ness is  lawful,  and  an  important  duty.  Now,  do  you  not 
find  from  this  view  of  the  case,  that  you  are  not  recon- 
ciled to  God,  even  in  your  most  devout  and  zealous 
hours,  much  less  in  the  languid  inactive  tenor  of  your 
lives  1  If  so,  place  yourselves  among  those  that  I  have 
to  do  with  to-day  ;  that  is,  the  enemies  of  God. 

So  also,  when  you  perform  good  offices  to  mankind  ; 
when  you  are  harmless,  obliging  neighbors  ;  when  you 
are  charitable  to  the  poor,  or  strictly  just  in  trade;  is 
the  love  of  God,  and  a  regard  to  his  authority,  the  reason 
and  principle  of  your  actions  1  That  is,  do  you  do  these 
things  because  God  commands  them,  and  because  you 
delight  to  do  what  he  commands  %  or  rather,  do  you  not 
do  them  merely  because  it  is  your  nature  to  perform 
humane  and  honorable  actions  in  such  instances  ;  or  be- 
cause you  may  acquire  honor,  or  some  selfish  advantage 


SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         65 

by  them  1  Alas !  that  God  should  be  neglected,  for- 
gotten, and  left  out  of  the  question,  as  of  no  importance 
even  in  those  actions  that  are  materially  good !  that 
even  what  he  commands  should  be  done,  not  because  he 
commands  it,  but  for  some  other  sordid  selfish   reason  ! 

0  !  if  you  did  really  love  God,  would  you  thus  disregard 
him,  and  do  nothing  for  his  sake,  not  only  when  you  are 
doing  what  he  forbids,  but  even  when  you  are  perform- 
ing what  he  has  made  your  duty  !  Would  he  be  such  a 
cipher,  a  mere  nothing  in  your  practical  esteem,  if  your 
hearts  were  reconciled  to  him  as  your  God  \  No ; 
such  of  you  must  look  upon  yourselves  as  the  very  per- 
sons whom  I  am  to  pray,  in  Christ's  stead,  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God. 

I  might  thus,  from  obvious  facts,  lay  before  you  many 
more  evidences  of  your  disaffection  to  the  great  God ; 
but  I  must  leave  some  room  for  the  other  part  of  my  ad- 
dress to  you,  in  which  I  am  to  persuade  you  to  accept 
of  the  proposal  of  reconciliation ;  and  therefore  I  shall 
add  only  one  more  test  of  your  pretended  friendship,  a 
test  of  which  is  established  by  the  great  Founder  of  our 
religion,  as  infallibly  decisive  in  this  case  j  and  that  is, 
obedience,  or  the  keeping  of  the  commandments  of  God. 
This,  I  say,  is  established  in  the  strongest  terms  by 
Jesus  Christ  himself,  as  a  decisive  test  of  love.  If  you 
love  me,  keep  my  commaiid merits.  John  xiv.  15.  Then 
areye  my  friends ,  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you.  John 
XV.  14.  If  any  man  love  me,  he  xvill  keep  my  words.  He 
that  loveth  me  not,  keepeth  not  my  saying.  John  xiv.  23, 
24.  This  is  the  love  of  God,  says  St.  John,  that  we  keep 
his  commandments  ;  and  his  commandments  are  not  grievous. 

1  John  V.  3.  That  is,  they  are  not  grievous  when  love 
is  the  principle  of  obedience.  The  service  of  love  is 
always  willing  and  pleasing.  Now,  my  brethren,  bring 
your  hearts  and  lives  to  this  standard,  and  let  conscience 
declare.  Are  there  not  some  demands  and  restraints 
of  the  divine  law  so  disagreeable  to  you,  that  you  labor 
to  keep  yourselves  ignorant  of  them,  and  turn  every  way 
to  avoid  the  painful  light  of  conviction  X  Are  there  not 
several  duties  which  you  know  in  your  consciences  to 
be  such,  which  you  do  not  so  much  as  honestly  endeavor 
to  perform,  but  knowingly  and  wilfully  neglect  1  And 
are  there  not  some  favorite  sins  which  vour  consciences 

6* 


t)6       SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

tell  yoii  God  has  forbidden,  which  yet  are  so  pleasing  to 
you,  that  you  knowingly  and  allowedly  indulge  and 
practise  them  1  If  this  be  your  case,  you  need  not  pre- 
tend to  plead  anything  in  your  own  defence,  or  hesitate 
any  longer;  the  case  is  plain,  you  are,  beyond  all 
doubt,  enemies  to  God  ;you  are  undeniably  convicted  of 
it  this  day  by  irresistible  evidence.  You  perhaps  glory 
in  the  profession  of  Christians,  but  you  are,  notwith- 
standing, enemies  to  God.  You  attend  on  public  wor- 
ship, you  pray,  you  read,  you  communicate,  you  are 
perhaps  a  zealous  churchman  or  dissenter,  but  you  are 
enemies  of  God.  You  have  perhaps  had  many  fits  of 
religious  affection,  and  serious  concern  about  your  ever- 
lasting happiness,  but  notwithstanding  you  are  enemies 
of  God.  You  may  have  reformed  in  many  things,  but  you 
are  still  enemies  of  God.  Men  may  esteem  you  Chris- 
tians, but  the  God  of  heaven  accounts  you  his  enemies, 
[n  vain  do  you  insist  upon  it,  that  you  have  never  hated 
your  maker  all  your  life,  but  even  tremble  at  the 
thought,  for  undeniable  facts  are  against  you  ;  and  the 
reason  why  j^ou  have  not  seen  your  enmity  was,  because 
you  were  blind,  and  judged  upon  wrong  principles  ;  but 
if  you  this  day  feel  the  force  of  conviction  from  the 
law,  and  have  your  eyes  opened,  you  will  see  and  be 
shocked  at  your  horrid  enmity  against  God,  before  yon- 
der sun  sets. 

And  now,  when  I  have  singled  out  from  the  rest  those 
I  am  now  to  beseech  to  reconciliation  with  God,  have  I 
not  got  the  majority  of  you  to  treat  with  l  Where  are 
the  sincere  lovers  of  God  ]  Alas  !  how  few  are  they  ! 
and  how  imperfect  even  in  their  love,  so  that  they  hard- 
ly dare  call  themselves  lovers  of  God,  but  tremble  lest 
they  should  still  belong  to  the  wretched  crowd  that  are 
still  unreconciled  to  him  ! 

Ye  rebels  against  the  King  of  heaven !  ye  enemies 
against  my  Lord  and  Master  Jesus  Christ  !  (I  cannot 
flatter  you  with  a  softer  name)  hear  me  5  attend  to  the 
proposal  I  make  to  you,  not  in  my  own  name,  but  in  the 
name  and  stead  of  your  rightful  Sovereign  ;  and  that  is, 
that  you  will  this  day  be  reconciled  to  God.  "  I  pray 
you  in  his  stead  (that  is  all  I  can  do)  be  ye  reconciled  to 
God."  That  you  may  know  what  I  mean,  I  will  more 
particularly  explain  this  overture  to  you. 


SINNERS    ENTREATED   TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         67 

If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God  you  must  be  deeply 
sensible  of  the  guilt,  the  wickedness,  the  baseness,  the 
inexpressible  malignity  of  your  enmity  and  rebellion 
against  him.  You  must  return  to  your  rightful  Sove- 
reign as  convicted,  self-condemned,  penitent,  broken- 
hearted rebels,  confounded  and  ashamed  of  your  con- 
duct, loathing  yourselves  because  you  have  loathed  the 
supreme  Excellence,  mourning  over  your  unnatural  dis- 
affection, your  base  ingratitude,  your  horrid  rebellion 
against  so  good  a  King.  And  what  do  you  say  to  this 
article  of  the  treaty  of  peace  1  Is  it  a  hard  thing  for 
such  causeless  enemies  to  fall  upon  the  knee,  and  to 
mourn  and  weep  as  prostrate  penitents  at  the  feet  of  their 
injured  Maker  ?  Is  it  a  hard  thing  for  one  that  has  all 
his  life  been  guilty  of  the  blackest  crimes  upon  earth,  or 
even  in  hell,  I  mean  enmity  against  God,  to  confess  "  I 
have  sinned,"  and  to  feel  his  own  confession  1  to  feel  it, 
I  say  ;  for  if  he  does  not  feel  it,  his  confession  is  but  an 
empty  compliment,  that  increases  his  guilt. 

Again,  if  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must 
heartily  consent  to  be  reconciled  to  him  in  Christ  ;  that 
is,  you  must  come  in  upon  the  footing  of  that  act  of 
grace  which  is  published  in  the  gospel  through  Christ, 
and  expecting  no  favor  at  all  upon  the  footing  of  your 
0'v\Ti  goodness.  The  merit  of  what  you  call  your  good 
actions,  of  your  repentance,  your  prayers,  your  acts  of 
charity  and  justice,  must  all  pass  for  nothing  in  this  re- 
spect :  you  must  depend  only  and  entirely  upon  the  me- 
rit of  Christ's  obedience  and  sufferings  as  the  ground  of 
your  acceptance  with  God  ;  and  hope  for  forgiveness 
and  favor  from  his  mere  mercy  bestowed  upon  you,  only 
for  the  sake  of  Christ  or  on  account  of  what  he  has  done 
and  suffered  in  the  stead  of  sinners.  The  context  in- 
forms you,  that  it  is  only  in  Christ  that  God  is  reconcil- 
ing the  world  to  himself;  and  consequently  it  is  only  in 
Christ  that  the  world  must  accept  of  reconciliation  and 
pardon.  It  does  not  consist  with  the  dignity  and  per- 
fections of  the  King  of  heaven  to  receive  rebels  into  fa- 
vor upon  any  other  footing.  I  would  have  you  consent 
to  every  article  of  the  overture  as  I  go  along  ;  and  there- 
fore here  again  I  make  a  pause  to  ask  you,  what  do  you 
think  of  this  article  1  Are  you  willing  to  comply  with 
it,  willing  to  come  into  favor  with  God,  as  convicted 


5S         SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

self-condemned  rebels,  upon  an  act  of  grace  procured  by 
the  righteousness  of  Christ  alone  1  Is  it  a  mortification 
to  creatures  that  never  have  done  one  action  truly  good 
in  all  their  lives,  because  they  have  never  loved  God  in 
one  moment  of  their  lives  :  creatures  that  have  always, 
even  in  what  they  accounted  their  best  dispositions,  and 
best  actions,  been  hateful  to  God,  because  even  in  their 
best  dispositions,  and  best  actions  they  w^ere  utterly  des 
titute  of  his  love  1  Is  it  a  mortification  to  such  crea- 
tures to  renounce  all  their  own  merit,  and  consent  to  be 
saved  only  through  grace,  on  account  of  the  righteous- 
ness of  another,  even  of  Jesus  Christ  the  great  Peace- 
maker 1  Can  it  be  a  mortification  to  you  to  renounce 
what  you  have  not,  and  to  own  yourselves  guilty,  and 
utterly  unworthy,  when  you  are  really  such  1  O  !  may  I 
not  expect  your  compliance  with  this  term  of  reconcilia' 
tion  1 

Again,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  must 
engage  yourselves  in  his  service  for  the  future,  and  de- 
vote yourselves  to  do  his  will.  His  law  must  be  the 
rule  of  your  temper  and  practice  :  whatever  he  com- 
mands you  must  honestly  endeavor  to.  perform,  without 
exception  of  any  one  duty  as  disagreeable  and  labori- 
ous ;  and  whatever  he  forbids,  you  must  for  that  reason, 
abstain  from,  however  pleasing,  advantageous,  or  fashion- 
able. You  must  no  longer  look  upon  yourself  as  your 
own,  but  as  bought  with  a  price,  and  therefore  bound  to 
glorify  God  with  your  souls  and  your  bodies,  w^hich  are 
his.  And  can  you  make  any  difficulty  of  complying 
with  this  term  ;  of  obeying  Him,  whom  the  happy  angels 
in  heaven  obey  ;  of  observing  that  law  which  always 
unites  your  duty  and  your  happiness,  and  forbids  no- 
thing but  what  is  itself  injurious  to  you  in  the  nature  of 
things  ;  of  doing  the  will  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  beings 
rather  than  your  own,  who  are  ignorant  and  depraved 
creatures  1  0  !  can  you  make  any  difficulty  of  this  ]  If 
not,  you  will  return  home  this  day  reconciled  to  God  ; 
a  happiness  you  have  never  yet  enjoyed  for  one  mo- 
ment. 

Finally,  If  you  would  be  reconciled  to  God,  you  mus 
break  off  all  friendship  with  his  enemies;  your  friend- 
ship with  the  world,  I  mean  your  attachment  to  its  wick- 
*»d  fashions  and  customs,  and  your  fondness  for  its  rebel- 


5SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         69 

lious  inhabitants,  who  continue  enemies  to  God  ;  your 
love  of  guilty  pleasures,  and  every  form  of  sin,  however 
pleasing  or  gainful  you  might  imagine  it  to  be  ;  your  old 
habits  and  practices,  while  enemies  to  God  ;  all  these 
you  must  break  ofT  for  ever  ;  for  your  friendship  with 
these  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  love  of  God.  As 
long  as  you  are  resolved  to  love  the  world,  to  keep  up 
your  society  with  your  old  companions  in  sin,  to  retain 
your  old  pleasures  and  evil  practices  ;  as  long,  I  say,  as 
you  are  resolved  upon  this  course,  farewell  all  hope  of 
your  reconciliation  to  God  :  it  is  absolutely  impossible. 
And  do  any  of  you  hesitate  at  this  article  '{  Is  sin  so  no- 
ble a  thing  in  itself,  and  so  happy  in  its  consequences,  as 
that  you  should  be  so  loth  to  part  with  it  1  Is  it  so  sweet 
a  thing  to  you  to  sin  against  God,  that  you  know  not 
how  to  forbear  1  Alas  !  will  you  rather  be  an  implacable 
enemy  to  the  God  that  made  you,  than  break  your  league 
with  his  enemies  and  your  own  1  Do  you  love  your  sins 
so  well,  and  are  you  so  obliged  to  them,  that  you  will 
lay  down  your  life,  your  eternal  life,  for  their  sakes. 

I  might  multiply  particulars,  but  these  are  the  princi- 
pal articles  of  that  trenty  of  peace,  I  am  negotiating  with 
you  ;  and  a  consent  to  these  includes  a  compliance  with 
all  the  rest.  And  are  you  determined  to  comply  1  Does 
the  heaven-born  purpose  now  rise  in  your  minds,  "  I  am 
determined  I  will  be  an  enemy  of  God  no  longer  ;  but 
this  very  day  I  will  be  reconciled  to  God  upon  his  own 
terms  !"  Is  this  your  fixed  purpose  \  or  is  there  any  oc- 
casion to  pray  and  persuade  you  1 

I  well  know,  and  it  is  fit  you  should  now,  that  you  are 
not  able  of  yourselves  to  consent  to  these  terms,  but 
that  it  is  the  work  of  the  power  of  God  alone  to  recon- 
cile you  to  himself;  and  that  all  my  persuasions  and  en- 
treaties will  never  make  you  either  able  or  willing.  You 
will  then  ask  me,  perhaps,  "  Why  do  I  propose  the  terms 
to  you,  or  use  any  persuasives  or  entreaties  Avith  you  1" 
I  answer,  because  you  never  will  be  sensible  of  your 
inability  till  you  make  an  honest  trial,  and  because  you 
never  will  look  and  pray  for  the  aid  of  the  blessed  Spirit 
till  you  are  deeply  sensible  of  your  own  insufficiency  ; 
and  further,  because,  if  the  blessed  Spirit  should  ever 
efTectually  work  upon  you,  it  will  be  by  enlightening 
your  understandings  to   see   the   reasonableness   of  the 


70       SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

terms,  and  the  force  of  the  persuasives  ;  and  in  this  way, 
agreeably  to  your  reasonable  natures,  sweetly  constrain- 
ing your  obstinate  wills  to  yield  yourselves  to  God  ; 
therefore  the  terms  must  be  proposed  to  you,  and  per- 
suasives used,  if  I  would  be  subservient  to  this  divine 
agent,  and  furnish  him  with  materials  with  which  to 
work  ;  and  I  have  some  little  hope  that  he  will,  as  it 
were,  catch  my  feeble  words  from  my  lips  before  they 
vanish  into  air,  and  bear  them  home  to  your  hearts  with 
a  power  which  you  will  not  be  able  to  resist.  Finally,  a 
conviction  of  the  true  state  of  your  case  may  constrain 
you  from  self-love  and  the  low  principles  of  nature  to 
use  the  means  of  reconciliation  with  zeal  and  earnest- 
ness ;  this  you  are  capable  of,  even  with  the  mere  strength 
of  degenerate  nature  ;  and  it  is  only  in  this  way  of  ear- 
nest endeavors  that  you  have  any  encouragement  to  hope 
for  divine  aid  ;  therefore,  notwithstanding  your  utter  im- 
potence, I  must  pray,  entreat,  and  persuade  you  to  be  re- 
conciled to  God. 

I  pray  you,  in  the  name  of  the  great  God  your  heaven- 
ly Father,  and  of  Jesus  Christ  your  Redeemer.  If  God 
should  once  more  renew  the  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
darkness  and  tempest  of  Sinai,  and  speak  to  you  as  he 
once  did  to  the  trembling  Israelites ;  or  if  he  should  ap- 
pear to  you  in  all  the  amiable  and  alluring  glories  of  a 
sin-pardoning  reconcilable  God,  and  pray  you  to  be  re- 
conciled to  him,  would  you  not  then  regard  the  propo- 
sal 1  or  if  Jesus,  who  once  prayed  for  you  from  the  cross, 
should  now  pray  to  you  from  his  throne  in  heaven,  and 
beg  you  with  his  own  gracious  voice  to  be  reconciled, 
O  !  could  you  disregard  the  entreaty  %  Surely  no.  Now 
the  overture  of  peace  is  as  really  made  to  you  by  the  bless- 
ed God  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  as  if  it  were  expressly 
proposed  to  you  by  an  immediate  voice  from  heaven. 
For  I  beseech  you,  as  though  God  did  beseech  you  by  me, 
and  it  is  in  Chrises  stead,  that  I  pray  you  be  reconciled  to 
God.  Therefore,  however  lightly  you  may  make  of  a 
mere  proposal  of  mine,  can  you  disregard  an  overture 
from  the  God  that  made  you,  and  the  Savior  that  bought 
you  with  his  blood  !  in  which  I  am  but  the  faint  echo  of 
their  voice  from  heaven. 

In  the  name  of  God  I  pray  you  ;  the  name  of  the 
greatest  and  best  of  beings ;    that  name  which  angels 


SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         71 

love  and  adore,  and  which  strikes  terror  through  the 
hardiest  devil  in  the  infernal  regions  ;  the  name  of"  your 
Father;  the  immediate  Father  of  your  spirits,  and  the 
Author  of  your  mortal  frames ;  the  name  of  your  Pre- 
server and  Benefactor,  in  whom  you  live,  and  move,  and 
have  your  being;  and  who  gives  you  life,  and  breath, 
and  all  things  ;  the  name  of  your  rightful  Sovereign  and 
Lawgiver,  who  has  a  right  to  demand  your  love  and  obe- 
dience ;  the  name  of  your  supreme  Judge,  who  will  as- 
cend the  tribunal,  and  acquit  or  condemn  you,  as  he  finds 
you  friends  or  foes  ;  the  name  of  that  God,  rich  in  good- 
ness, who  has  replenished  heaven  Avith  an  infinite  pleni- 
tude of  happiness  in  which  he  Avill  allow  you  to  share 
after  all  your  hostility  and  rebellion,  if  you  consent  to 
overtures  of  reconciliation  ;  in  the  name  of  that  God  of 
terrible  majesty  and  justice,  who  has  prepared  the  dun- 
geon of  hell  as  a  prison  for  his  enemies,  where  he  holds 
in  chains  the  mighty  powers  of  darkness,  and  thousands 
of  your  own  race,  who  persisted  in  that  enmity  to  him 
of  which  you  are  now  guilty,  and  with  whom  you  must 
have  your  everlasting  portion,  if,  like  them,  you  continue 
hardened  and  incorrigible  in  your  rebellion  ;  in  the  name 
of  that  compassionate  God,  who  sent  his  dear  Son  (0  the 
transporting  thought !)  to  satisfy  divine  justice  for  you 
by  his  death,  and  the  precepts  of  the  law  by  his  life,  and 
thus  to  remove  all  obstructions  out  of  the  way  of  your 
reconciliation  on  the  part  of  God  ;  in  this  great,  this  en- 
dearing and  tremendous  name,  I  pray  you  be  reconciled 
to  God.  I  pray  you  for  his  sake  ;  and  has  this  name  no 
weight  with  you  1  Will  you  do  nothing  for  his  sake  I 
what,  not  so  reasonable  and  advantageous  a  thing  as 
dropping  your  unnatural  rebellion,  and  being  reconciled 
to  him  1  Is  your  contempt  of  God  risen  to  that  pitch 
that  you  will  not  do  the  most  reasonable  and  profitable 
thing  in  the  world,  if  he  intreat  you  to  do  it  1  Be  as- 
tonished, O  ye  heavens  !  at  this. 

I  pray  you  both  in  the  name  and  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ,  the  true  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners,  in  his 
name  and  for  his  sake,  who  assumed  your  degraded  na- 
ture, that  he  might  dignify  and  save  it ;  who  lived  a  life 
of  labor,  poverty  and  persecution  upon  earth,  that  you 
might  enjoy  a  life  of  everlasting  happiness  and  glory  in 
heaven  ;  who  died  upon  a  torturing  cross,  that  you  might 


72       SINNERS    ENTREATED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD. 

sit  upon  heavenly  thrones  ;  who  was  imprisoned  in  the 
gloomy  grave,  that  you  might  enjoy  a  glorious  resurrec- 
tion ;  who  fell  a  victim  to  divine  justice,  that  you  might 
be  set  free  from  its  dreadful  arrest ;  who  felt  trouble  and 
agony  of  soul,  that  you  might  enjoy  the  smiles,  the  plea- 
sures of  divine  love  ;  who,  in  short,  has  discovered  more 
ardent  and  extensive  love  for  you  than  all  the  friends  in 
the  world  can  do  :  in  his  name,  and  for  his  sake,  I  pray 
you  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  And  is  his  dear  name  a 
trifle  in  your  esteem  1  Will  you  not  do  any  thing  so 
reasonable  and  so  necessary,  and  conducive  to  your  hap- 
piness for  his  sake  ;  for  his  sake  who  has  done  and  suf- 
fered so  much  for  you  1  Alas  !  has  the  name  of  Jesus 
no  more  influence  among  the  creatures  he  bought  with 
his  blood  !  It  is  hard,  indeed,  if  I  beg  in  vain,  when  I 
beg  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  the  Friend,  the  Savior  of 
perishing  souls. 

But  if  you  have  no  regard  for  him,  you  certainly  have 
for  yourselves  ;  therefore,  for  your  own  sakes,  for  the 
sake  of  your  precious  immortal  souls,  for  the  sake  of 
your  own  everlasting  happiness,  I  pray  you  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God.  If  you  refuse,  you  degrade  the  honor  of 
your  nature,  and  commence  incarnate  devils.  For  what 
is  the  grand  constituent  of  a  devil,  but  enmity  against 
God  1  You  become  the  refuse  of  the  creation,  fit  for  no 
apartment  of  the  universe  but  the  prison  of  hell.  While 
you  are  unreconciled  to  God  you  can  do  nothing  at  all 
to  please  him.  He  that  searches  the  heart  knows  that 
even  your  good  actions  do  not  proceed  from  love  to  him, 
and  therefore  he  abhors  them.  Ten  thousand  prayers 
and  acts  of  devotion  and  morality,  as  you  have  no  prin- 
ciples of  real  holiness,  are  so  many  provocations  to  a 
righteous  God.  While  you  refuse  to  be  reconciled,  you 
are  accessary  to,  and  patronize  all  the  rebellion  of  men 
and  devils  ;  for  if  you  have  a  right  to  continue  in  your 
rebellion,  why  may  not  others  1  why  may  not  every  man 
upon  earth  1  why  may  not  every  miserable  ghost  in  the 
infernal  regions  1  And  are  you  for  raising  a  universal 
mutiny  and  rebellion  against  the  throne  of  the  Most 
High  !  O  the  inexpressible  horror  of  the  thought !  If 
you  refuse  to  be  reconciled,  you  will  soon  weary  out  the 
mercy  and  patience  of  God  towards  you,  and  he  will 
come  forth  against  you  in  all  the  terrors  of  an  almighty 


SilVNBRS    EATRE-A'JED    TO    BE    RECONCILED    TO    GOD.         73 

enemy.  He  will  give  death  a  commission  to  seize  you, 
and  drag  you  to  his  flaming  tribunal.  He  will  break  off 
the  treaty,  and  never  make  you  one  offer  of  reconcilia- 
tion more  :  he  will  strip  you  of  all  the  enjoyments  he 
v;as  pleased  to  lend  you,  wdiile  you  were  under  a  re- 
piicve,  and  the  treaty  was  not  come  to  a  final  issue  ;  and 
will  leave  you  nothing  but  bare  being,  and  an  extensive 
capacity  of  misery,  which  will  be  filled  up  to  the  utter- 
most from  the  vials  of  his  indignation.  He  will  treat 
you  as  his  implacable  enemy,  and  you  shall  be  to  him  as 
Amalek,  Exod.  xvii.  16,  with  whom  he  will  make  war  for 
ever  and  ever.  He  will  reprove  you,  and  set  your  sins 
in  order  before  you,  and  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there 
shall  be  none  to  deliver.  He  will  meet  you  as  a  lion, 
"  and  as  a  bear  bereaved  of  her  w'helps,  and  will  rend  the 
caul  of  your  hearts.  Hos.  xiii.  8.  He  hath  for  a  long 
time  held  his  peace,  and  endured  your  rebellion ;  but  ere 
long  he  will  go  forth  as  a  mighty  man :  he  shall  stir  up 
jealousy  like  a  man  of  war  ;  he  shall  cry,  yea,  roar  ;  he 
shall  prevail  against  his  enemies.  Ah  !  he  wdll  ease  him 
of  his  adversaries,  and  avenge  him  of  his  enemies.  He 
will  give  orders  to  the  executioners  of  his  justice  :  These 
mme  enemies^  that  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  thcm^ 
bring  them  hither^  and  slay  them  before  me.  Luke  xix.  27. 
And  now,  if  you  will  not  submit  to  peace,  prepare  to 
meet  your  God,  0  sinners  !  gird  up  your  loins  like  men  ; 
put  on  all  the  terror  of  your  rage,  and  go  forth  to  meet 
your  almighty  adversary,  who  will  soon  meet  you  in  the 
field,  and  try  your  strength.  Call  the  legions  of  hell  to 
your  aid,  and  strengthen  the  confederacy  with  all  your 
fellow-sinners  upon  earth ;  put  briers  and  thorns  around 
you  to  enclose  from  his  reach.  Prepare  the  dry  stubble 
to  oppose  devouring  flame.  Associate  yourselves,  but  ye 
shall  be  broken  in  pieces  :  gird  yourselves  ;  but  alas !  ye 
shall  be  broken  to  pieces. 

But  O  !  I  must  drop  this  ironical  challenge,  and  seri- 
ously pray  you  to  make  peace  with  him  whom  you  can- 
not resist :  then  all  your  past  rebellion  will  be  forgiven; 
you  shall  be  the  favorites  of  your  sovereign,  and  happy 
for  ever  ;  and  earth  and  heaven  will  rejoice  at  the  con- 
clusion of  this  blessed  peace  ;  and  my  now  sad  heart  wiU 
share  in  the  joy.  Therefore,  for  your  own  sakes  I  pray 
you  to  be  reconciled  to  God. 
7 


*34  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY  *♦ 

SERMON  IV. 

THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY  OF    SPIRITUAL     DEATH 

Ephes.  ii.  1  and  5. — Who  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. 
Even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins. 

There  is  a  kind  of  death  which  we  all  expect  to  feel, 
that  carries  terror  in  the  very  sound,  and  all  its  circum- 
stances are  shocking  to  nature.  The  ghastly  counte 
nance,  the  convulsive  agonies,  the  expiring  groan,  the 
coffin,  the  grave,  the  devouring  worm,  the  stupor,  the  in- 
sensibility, the  universal  inactivity,  these  strike  a  damp 
to  the  spirit,  and  we  turn  pale  at  the  thought.  With 
such  objects  as  these  in  view,  courage  fails,  levity  looks 
serious,  presumption  is  dashed,  the  cheerful  passions 
sink,  and  all  is  solemn,  all  is  melancholy.  The  most 
stupid  and  hardy  sinner  cannot  but  be  moved  to  see 
these  things  exemplified  in  others  ;  and  when  he  cannot 
avoid  the  prospect,  he  is  shocked  to  think  that  he  him- 
self must  feel  them. 

But  there  is  another  kind  of  death  little  regarded  in 
deed,  little  feared,  little  lamented,  which  is  infinitely 
more  terrible — the  death,  not  of  the  body,  but  of  the 
soul :  a  death  which  does  not  stupify  the  limbs,  but  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  :  a  death  which  does  not  separate 
the  soul  and  body,  and  consign  the  latter  to  the  grave, 
but  that  separates  the  soul  from  God,  excludes  it  from 
all  the  joys  of  his  presence,  and  delivers  it  over  to  ever- 
lasting misery  ;  a  tremendous  death  indeed  !  "  A  death 
unto  death."  The  expression  of  St.  Paul  is  prodigiously 
strong  and  striking:  QavuroiUiQavaTov.  Death  unto  death, 
death  after  death,  in  all  dreadful  succession,  and  the  last 
more  terrible  than  the  first,  2.  Cor.  ii.  16,  and  this  is  the 
death  meant  in  my  text,  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins. 

To  explain  the  context  and  show  you  the  connection 
I  shall  make  two  short  remarks. 

The  one  is,  That  the  apostle  had  observed  in  the  nine 
teenth  and  twentieth  verses  of  the  foregoing  chapter 
that  the  same  almighty  power  of  God,  which  raiseo 
Christ  from  the   dead,  is  exerted  to  enable  a  sinner   to 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  75 

believe. — We  believe,  says  he,  according  to  the  working  or 
energy  Eieuysr.iv  of  his  mighty  power  which  he  wrought  in 
Christ,  when  he  raised  him  from  the  dead.  The  one,  as 
well  as  the  other,  is  an  exploit  of  omnipotence.  The 
exceeding  greatness  of  his  mighty  power  is  exerted  to- 
wards us  that  believe,  as  well  as  it  was  upon  the  dead 
body  of  Christ  to  restore  it  to  life,  after  it  had  been  torn 
and  mangled  upon  the  cross,  and  lain  three  days  and 
three  nights  in  the  grave.  What  strong  language  is 
this  !  what  a  forcible  illustration  !  Methinks  this  pas- 
sage alone  is  sufficient  to  confound  all  the  vanity  and 
self-sufficiency  of  mortals,  and  entirely  destroy  the 
proud  fiction  of  a  self-sprung  faith  produced  by  the  ef- 
forts of  degenerate  nature.  In  my  text  the  apostle  as- 
signs the  reason  of  this.  The  same  exertion  of  the 
same  power  is  necessary  in  the  one  case  and  the  other  ; 
because,  as  the  body  of  Christ  was  dead,  and  had  no 
principle  of  life  in  it,  so,  says  he,  ye  were  dead  in  trespass- 
es and  si?is  ;  and  therefore  could  no  more  quicken  your- 
selves than  a  dead  body  can  restore  itself  to  life.  But 
God,  verse  4th,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love 
wherewith  he  loved  us  ;  that  God,  who  raised  the  entomb- 
ed Redeemer  to  life  again,  that  same  almighty  God,  by 
a  like  exertion  of  the  same  power,  hath  quickened  us^ 
verse  5th,  even  when  ive  were  dead  in  sins  ;  dead,  sense  • 
less,  inactive,  and  incapable  of  animating  ourselves.  Let 
any  man  carefully  read  these  verses,  and  consider  their 
most  natural  meaning,  and  I  cannot  but  think  common 
sense  Avill  direct  him  thus  to  understand  them.  The 
scriptures  were  written  with  a  design  to  be  understood  ; 
and  therefore  that  sense  which  is  most  natural  to  a  plain 
unprejudiced  understanding  is  most  likely  to  be  true. 

The  other  remark  is.  That  the  apostle  having  pro- 
nounced the  Ephesians  dead  in  sin,  while  unconverted, 
in  the  first  verse,  passes  the  same  sentence  upon  him- 
self and  the  whole  body  of  the  Jews,  notwithstanding 
their  high  privileges,  in  the  fifth  verse.  The  sense  and 
connection  may  be  discovered  in  the  following  para- 
phrase :  "  You  Ephesians  were  very  lately  heathens, 
and,  while  you  were  in  that  state,  you  were  spiritually 
dead,  and  all  your  actions  were  dead  works.  In  time 
past  ye  walked  in  trespasses  and  sins,  nor  were  you  sin- 
gular in  your  course  :  though  it  be  infinitely  pernicious, 


76  THE    NATURE    AND    UxMVEUSALlTY 

yet  it  is  the  common  course  of  this  world,  and  it  is  also 
agreeable  to  the  temper  and  instigation  of  that  gloomy- 
prince,  who  has  a  peculiar  power  in  the  region  of  the 
air  ;  that  malignant  spirit  who  works  with  dreadful  effi- 
cacy in  the  numerous  children  of  disobedience  ;  but  this 
was  not  the  case  of  you  heathens  alone  :  we  also  who 
are  Jews,  notwithstanding  our  many  religious  advanta- 
ges, and  even  I  myself,  notwithstanding  my  high  privi- 
leges and  unblemishable  life  as  a  pharisee,  we  also,  1 
say,  had  our  conversation  in  times  past  among  the  chil- 
dren of  disobedience  ;  we  all,  as  well  as  they,  walked  in 
the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  fufilling  the  desires  and  inclina- 
tions (  OfX'/j/mra)  of  our  scusual  flcsli,  and  of  our  depraved 
minds  ;  for  these  were  tainted  with  spiritual  wickedness, 
independent  upon  our  animal  passions  and  appetites  ; 
and  we  are  all,  even  by  nature,  children  of  wrath  even 
as  others :  in  this  respect  we  Jews  were  just  like  the 
rest  of  mankind,  corrupt  from  our  very  birth,  transgress- 
ors from  the  womb,  and  liable  to  the  wrath  of  God.  Our 
external  relation  and  privileges  as  the  peculiar  people 
of  God,  distinguished  with  a  religion  from  heaven, 
makes  no  distinction  between  us  and  others  in  this  mat- 
ter. As  we  are  all  children  of  disobedience  by  our 
lives,  so  we  are  all,  without  exception,  children  of  wrath 
by  nature  :  but  when  we  were  all  dead  in  sins,  when 
Jews  and  Gentiles  were  equally  dead  to  God,  then,  even 
then,  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  had  pity  upon  us  ;  he 
luickened  us  ;  "  he  inspired  us  with  a  new  and  spiritual  life 
by  his  own  almighty  power,  which  raised  the  dead  body 
of  Christ  from  the  grave."  He  q^nckened  us  together  with 
Christ :  "  We  received  our  life  by  virtue  of  our  union 
with  him  as  our  vital  head,  who  was  raised  to  an  im- 
mortal life,  that  he  might  quicken  dead  souls  by  those 
influences  of  his  Spirit  which  he  purchased  by  his  death  ; 
and  therefore  by  grace  are  ye  saved."  It  is  the  purest, 
richest,  freest  grace,  that  such  dead  souls  as  we  were 
made  alive  to  God,  and  not  suffered  to  remain  dead  for- 
ever. 

This  is  the  obvious  meaning  and  connection  of  these 
verses ;  and  Ave  now  proceed  to  consider  the  text,  dead  in, 
trespasses  and  sins  ;  you  dead,  we  dead,  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles all  dead  together  in  trespasses  ajid  sins.  A  dismal, 
mortifying  character  !      "  This  one  place,"  says  Beza, 


Of    SPII^ITUAL    DEATH.  77 

''  like  a  thunder-bolt,  dashes  all  mankind  down  to  the 
dust,  great  and  proud  as  they  are  ;  for  it  pronounces 
their  nature  not  only  hurt  but  dead  by  sin,  and  therefore 
liable  to  wrath.* 

Death  is  a  state  of  insensibility  and  inactivity,  and  a  dead 
man  is  incapable  of  restoring  himself  to  life  ;  therefore 
the  condition  of  an  unconverted  sinner  must  have  some 
resemblance  to  such  a  state,  in  order  to  support  the  bold 
metaphor  here  used  by  the  apostle.  To  understand  it 
aright  we  must  take  care,  on  the  one  hand,  that  w^e  do 
not  explain  it  away  in  flattery  to  ourselves,  or  in  compli- 
ment to  the  pride  of  human  nature  ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  we  do  not  carry  the  similitude  too  far,  so  as 
to  lead  into  absurdities,  and  contradict  matter  of  fact. 

The  metaphor  must  be  understood  with  several  limita- 
tions or  exceptions  ;  for  it  is  certain  there  is  a  wide  dif- 
ference between  the  spiritual  death  of  the  soul,  and  the 
natural  death  of  the  body,  particularly  in  this  respect 
that  death  puts  an  entire  end  to  all  the  powers,  actions, 
and  sensations  of  our  animal  nature  universally,  with  re- 
gard to  all  objects  of  every  kind :  but  a  soul  dead  in  sin 
is  one  partially  dead  ;  that  is,  it  is  dead  only  with  regard 
to  a  certain  kind  of  sensations  and  exercises,  but  in  the 
mean  time  it  may  be  all  life  and  activity  about  other 
things.  It  is  alive,  sensible,  and  vigorous  about  earthly 
objects  and  pursuits  ;  these  raise  its  passions  and  engage 
its  thoughts.  It  has  also  a  dreadful  power  and  faculty 
of  sinning,  this  is  not  its  life  but  its  disease,  its  death, 
like  the  tendency  of  a  dead  body  to  corruption.  It  can 
likewise  exercise  its  intellectual  powers,  and  make  con- 
siderable improvements  in  science.  A  sinner  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  may  be  a  living  treasury  of  know- 
ledge, an  universal  scholar,  a  profound  philosopher,  and 
even  a  great  divine,  as  far  as  mere  speculative  know- 
ledge can  render  him  such ;  naj^  he  is  capable  of  many 
sensations  and  impressions  from  religious  objects,  and 
of  performing  all  the  external  duties  of  religion.  He  is 
able  to  read,  to  hear,  to  pray,  to  meditate  upon  divine 
things  ;  nay,  he  may  be  an  instructor  of  others,  and 
preach  perhaps  with  extensive  popularity  ;  he  may  have 

*  "  Hoc  imo  loco,  quasi  fulmine^  totus  homo,  quanUis  quantus  est  pros- 
ternitur.  Neque  enim  naturani,  dicit  lEesam,  sod  niortuam,  ptr  pecatum  ; 
idooque  irae  obnoxiam." 

7* 


78  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY. 

a  form  of  godliness,  and  obtain  a  name  to  live  among 
men  ;  he  is  in  some  measure  able,  and  it  is  his  duty  to 
attend  upon  the  means  God  has  instituted  for  quicken- 
ing him  v\'ith  spiritual  life,  and  God  deals  with  him  as 
with  a  rational  creature,  by  laws,  sanctions,  promises, 
expostulations,  and  invitations:  these  concessions  I  make 
not  only  to  give  you  the  sense  of  the  text,  but  also  to 
prevent  the  abuse  of  the  doctrine,  and  anticipate  some 
objections  against  it,  as  though  it  were  an  encourage- 
ment to  continue  idle,  and  use  no  m.eans  to  obtain  spirit- 
ual life  :  or  as  though  it  rendered  all  the  means  of 
grace  needless  and  absurd,  like  arguments  to  the  dead, 
to  restore  themselves  to  life.  But,  notwithstanding  all 
these  concessions,  it  is  a  melancholy  truth  that  an  unre- 
generate  sinner  is  dead.  Though  lie  can  commit  sin 
with  greediness,  though  he  is  capable  of  animal  actions 
and  secular  pursuits,  nay,  though  he  can  employ  his 
mind  even  about  intellectual  and  spiritual  things,  and  is 
capable  of  performing  the  external  duties  of  religion,  yet 
there  is  something  in  religion  with  regard  to  which  he  is 
entirely  dead  :  there  is  a  kind  of  spiritual  life  of  which 
he  is  entirely  destitute  :  he  is  habitually  insensible  with 
regard  to  things  divine  and  eternal  :  he  has  no  activity, 
no  vigor  in  the  pure,  spiritual  and  vital  exercises  of 
religion  :  he  has  no  prevailing  bent  of  mind  towards 
them :  he  has  not  those  views  and  apprehensions  of 
things  w^hich  a  soul  spiritually  alive  would  necessarily 
receive  and  entertain  :  he  is  destitute  of  those  sacred 
affections,  that  joy,  that  love,  that  desire,  that  hope,  that 
fear,  that  sorrow,  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  innate 
passions  of  the  new  man.  In  short,  he  is  so  inactive,  so 
listless,  so  insensible  in  these  respects,  that  death,  which 
puts  an  end  to  all  action  and  sensation,  is  a  proper  emi- 
blem  of  his  state  ;  and  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  apostle 
in  my  text.  He  is  also  utterly  unable  to  quicken  him- 
self. He  may  indeed  use  means  in  some  sort ;  but  to 
implant  a  vital  principle  in  his  soul,  but  to  give  himselr 
vivid  sensations  of  divine  things,  and  make  himself  alive 
towards  God,  this  is  entirely  beyond  his  utmost  ability  ; 
this  is  as  peculiarly  the  work  of  almighty  power  as 
the  resurrection  of  a  dead  boay  Trom  the  grave. 
As  to  this  death  it  is  brought  upon  him  by,  and 
consists    in,    trespasses  and  sins.     The   innate  depravi- 


OF    SPIRITU^IL    DEATH.  79 

ty  and  corruption  of  the  heart,  and  the  habits  of  sin  con- 
tracted and  confirmed  by  repeated  indulgences  of  inbred 
corruption,  these  are  the  poisonous,  deadly  things  that 
have  slain  the  soul  5  these  have  entirely  indisposed  and 
disabled  it  for  living  religion.  Trespasses  and  sins  are 
the  grave,  the  corrupt  effluvia,  the  malignant  damps,  the 
rottenness  of  a  dead  soul :  it  lies  dead,  senseless,  inac- 
tive, buried  in  trespasses  and  sins.  Trespasses  and  sins 
render  it  ghastly,  odious,  abominable,  a  noisome  putre- 
faction before  a  holy  God,  like  a  rotten  carcass,  or  a 
mere  mass  of  corruption :  the  vilest  lusts,  like  worms, 
riot  upon  and  devour  it,  but  it  feels  them  not,  nor  can  it 
lift  a  hand  to  drive  the  venom  ofl".  Such  mortifying 
ideas  as  these  may  be  contained  in  the  striking  metaphor, 
dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  ;  and  I  hope  you  now  under- 
stand its  general  meaning. 

If  you  would  know  what  has  turned  my  thoughts  to 
this  subject,  I  will  candidly  tell  you,  though  with  a  sor- 
rowful heart.  I  am  sure,  if  any  objects  within  the  com- 
pass of  human  knowledge  have  a  tendency  to  make  the 
deepest  impressions  upon  our  minds,  they  are  those 
things  which  Christianity  teaches  ns  concerning  God, 
concerning  ourselves,  and  a  future  state  ;  and  if  there  be 
any  exercises  which  should  call  forth  all  the  life  and  pow- 
ers of  our  souls  into  action,  they  are  those  of  a  religious 
nature  :  but  alas  !  I  often  find  a  strange,  astonishing  stu- 
por and  listlessness  about  these  things.  In  this  I  am  not 
singular ;  the  best  among  us  complain  of  the  same  thing  ; 
the  most  lively  Christians  feel  this  unaccountable  languor 
and  insensibility ;  and  the  generality  are  evidently  desti- 
tute of  all  habitual  concern  about  them :  they  are  all 
alive  in  the  pursuit  of  pleasure,  riches,  or  honors  ;  their 
thoughts  are  easily  engaged,  and  their  affections  raised 
by  such  things  as  these  :  but  the  concerns  of  religion, 
which  above  all  other  things  are  adapted  to  make  im- 
pressions upon  them,  and  stir  up  all  the  life  within  them, 
seem  to  have  little  or  no  efTect.  When  I  have  made  this 
observation  with  respect  to  others,  and  felt  the  melan- 
choly confirmation  of  it  in  my  o\y\\  breast,  I  have  really 
been  struck  with  amazement,  and  ready  to  cry  out, 
"  Lord,  what  is  this  that  has  befallen  me,  and  the  rest  of 
my  fellow-mortals  %  Avhat  can  be  the  cause  of  such  con- 
duct in  rational   nature,  to  be  active  and    eager   about 


80  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

trifles,  and  stupid  and  careless  about  matters  of  infinite 
importance  1  O  whence  is  this  strange  infatuation !" 
Thus  I  have  been  shocked  at  this  astonishing  fact,  and  I 
could  account  for  it  in  no  other  way  but  by  reflecting 
that  we  have  all  been  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins.  In  such 
a  solemn  hour  the  apostle's  expression  does  not  seem  at 
all  too  strong.  I  have  no  scruple  at  all  to  pronounce, 
not  only  from  the  authority  of  an  apostle,  but  from  the 
evidence  of  the  thing,  that  I,  and  all  around  me,  yea,  and 
all  the  sons  of  men,  have  been  dead ;  in  the  spiritual 
sense,  utterly  dead.  Multitudes  among  us,  yea,  the  gene- 
rality are  dead  still ;  hence  the  stillness  about  religion 
among  us  ;  hence  the  stupor,  the  carelessness  about  eter- 
nal things,  the  thoughtless  neglect  of  God,  the  insensi- 
bility under  his  providential  dispensations,  the  impeni- 
tence, the  presumption  that  so  much  prevail.  God  has 
indeed,  out  of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us, 
quickened  some  of  us,  even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins  j 
and  we  have  a  little  life,  some  vital  sensations  and  impres- 
sions at  times,  but  O !  how  little,  how  superficial,  how- 
much  of  a  deadly  stupor  yet  remains !  how  little  life  in 
prayer,  in  hearing,  or  in  the  nearest  approach  to  the  liv- 
ing God  !  The  refiection  is  shocking,  but  alas  !  it  is  too 
true  ;  consult  your  own  hearts  and  you  will  find  it  even 
so.  Animal  life  seems  to  be  a  gradual  thing ;  it  gradual- 
ly grows  in  an  infant,  it  is  perfect  in  mature  age,  and  in 
old  age  it  gradually  decays  till  all  is  gone  5  but  how 
small  is  the  degree  of  life  when  the  foetus  is  just  animat- 
ed, or  the  infant  born  into  the  world !  but  little  superior 
to  that  of  a  plant  or  an  oyster.  What  faint  sensations, 
what  obscure  and  languid  perceptions,  what  feeble  mo- 
tions !  Such  are  the  children  of  grace  in  the  present 
state.  Spiritual  life  is  gradual ;  it  is  infused  in  regene- 
ration ;  but  0 !  how  far  from  perfection  while  on  this 
side  heaven !  Alas !  the  best  of  us  are  like  the  poor 
traveler  that  fell  among  thieves,  and  was  left  half  dead ; 
however,  it  is  an  unspeakable  mercy  to  have  the  least 
principle  of  spiritual  life ;  and  we  should  prize  it  more 
than  crowns  and  empires. 

If  you  would  know  my  design  in  choosing  this  subject 
It  is  partly  for  the  conviction  of  sinners,  that  they  may  be 
alarmed  with  their  deplorable  condition,  which  is  the  first 
Btep  towards  their  being  quickened ;  partly  to  rouse  the 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  81 

children  of  grace  to  seek  more  life  from  their  vital  head; 
and  partly  to  display  the  rich  grace  of  God  in  quicken- 
ing such  dead  sinners,  and  bestowing  upon  them  a  spirit- 
ual and  immortal  life  ;  and  surely  nothing  can  inflame 
our  gratitude  and  raise  our  wonder  more  than  the  con- 
sideration that  we  were  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins !  If 
I  may  but  answer  these  ends,  it  will  be  an  unspeakable 
blessing  to  us  all.  And  O,  that  divine  grace  may  honor 
this  humble  attempt  of  a  poor  creature,  at  best  but  half 
alive,  with  success !  I  hope,  my  brethren,  you  will  hear 
seriously,  for  it  is  really  a  most  serious  subject. 

You  have  seen  that  the  metaphorical  expression  in  my 
text  is  intended  to  represent  the  stupidity,  inactivity, 
and  impotence  of  unregenerate  sinners  about  divine 
things.  This  truth  I  might  confirm  by  argument  and 
scripture  authority ;  but  I  think  it  may  be  a  better  me- 
thod for  popular  conviction  to  prove  and  illustrate  it 
from  plain  instances  of  the  temper  and  conduct  of  sin- 
ners about  the  concerns  of  religion,  as  this  may  force 
the  conviction  upon  them  from  undoubted  matters  of  fact 
and  their  own  experience. 

This,  therefore,  is  the  method  I  intend  to  pursue  ;  and 
my  time  will  allow  me  to  particularize  only  the  follow 
ing  instances. 

I.  Consider  the  excellency  of  the  divine  Being,  the 
sum  total,  the  great  original  of  all  perfections.  How 
infinitely  worthy  is  he  of  the  adoration  of  all  his  crea- 
tures !  how  deserving  of  their  most  intense  thoughts  and 
most  ardent  affections !  If  majesty  and  glory  can  strike 
us  with  awe  and  veneration,  does  not  Jehovah  demand 
them,  who  is  clothed  with  majesty  and  glory  as  with  a 
garment,  and  before  whom  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  are  as  grasshoppers,  as  nothing,  as  less  than  no- 
thing, and  vanity  1  If  wisdom  excites  our  pleasing 
Avonder,  here  is  an  unfathomable  depth.  O  the  depth 
of  the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God! 
If  goodness,  grace,  and  mercy  attract  our  love  and 
gratitude,  here  these  amiable  perfections  shine  in  their 
most  alluring  glories.  If  justice  strikes  a  damp  to  the 
guilty,  here  is  justice  in  all  its  tremendous  majesty. 
If  veracity,  if  candor,  if  any,  or  all  of  the  moral  virtues 
engage  our  esteem,  here  they  all  centre  in  their  highest 
perfection.      If  the    presence  of  a  king  strikes  a  reve* 


82  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

rence  ;  if  the  eye  of  his  judge  awes  the  criminal,  and 
restrains  him  from  offending,  certainly  we  should  fear 
before  the  Lord  all  the  day,  for  we  are  surrounded  with 
his  omnipresence,  and  he  is  the  inspector  and  judge  of 
all  our  thoughts  and  actions.  If  riches  excite  desire, 
here  are  unsearchable  riches:  if  happiness  has  charms 
that  draw  all  the  world  after  it,  here  is  an  unbounded 
ocean  of  happiness  ;  here  is  the  only  complete  portion 
for  an  immortal  mind.  Men  are  affected  with  these 
things  in  one  another,  though  found  in  a  very  imperfect 
degree.  Power  awes  and  commands;  virtue  and  good- 
ness please ;  beauty  charms ;  justice  strikes  with  so- 
lemnity and  terror  ;  a  bright  genius  is  admired ;  a  be- 
nevolent, merciful  temper  is  loved :  thus  men  are  af- 
fected with  created  excellences.  Whence  is  it,  then, 
they  are  so  stupidly  unaffected  with  the  supreme  excel- 
lences of  Jehovah  % 

Here,  my  brethren,  turn  your  eyes  inward  upon  your- 
selves, and  inquire,  are  not  several  of  you  conscious  that, 
though  you  have  passions  for  such  objects  as  these,  and 
you  are  easily  moved  by  them,  yet,  with  regard  to  the 
perfections  of  the  supreme  and  best  of  beings,  your 
hearts  are  habitually  senseless  and  unaffected  %  It  is  not 
an  easy  thing  to  make  impressions  upon  you  by  them  ; 
and  what  increases  the  wonder,  and  aggravates  your 
guilt,  is,  that  you  are  thus  senseless  and  unaffected,  when 
you  believe  and  profess  that  these  perfections  are  really 
in  God,  and  that  in  the  highest  degree  possible.  In  other 
cases  you  can  love  what  appears  amiable,  you  revere 
what  is  great  and  majestic,  you  eagerly  desire  and  pur- 
sue what  is  valuable  and  tends  to  your  happiness  ;  and 
all  this  you  do  freely,  spontaneously,  vigorously,  by  the 
innate  inclination  and  tendency  of  your  nature,  without 
reluctance,  without  compulsion,  nay,  without  persuasion  ; 
but  as  to  God  and  all  his  perfections,  you  are  strangely 
insensible,  backward,  and  averse.  Where  is  there  one 
being  that  has  any  confessed  excellency  in  the  compass 
of  human  knowledge,  that  does  not  engage  more  of  the 
thoughts  and  affections  of  mankind  than  the  glorious  and 
ever  blessed  God  \  The  sun,  moon,  and  stars  have  had 
more  worshipers  than  the  uncreated  fountain  of  lignt 
from  which  they  derive  their  lustre.  Kings  and  minis- 
ters of  state  have  more  punctual  homage  and  more  fre- 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  83 

quent  applications  made  to  them  tlian  the  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords.  Created  enjoyments  are  more  eager- 
ly pursued  than  the  Supreme  Good.  Search  all  the 
world  over,  and  you  will  find  but  very  little  motions  of 
heart  towards  God  ;  little  love,  little  desire,  little  search- 
ing after  him.  You  will  often,  indeed,  see  him  honored 
with  the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  and  a  few  heart- 
less words,  under  the  name  of  a  prayer  ;  but  where  is 
the  heart,  or  where  arc  the  thoughts,  where  the  affec- 
tions '{  These  run  wild  through  the  world,  and  are  scat- 
tered among  a  thousand  other  objects.  The  heart  has 
no  prevailing  tendency  toward  God,  the  thoughts  are 
shy  of  him,  the  affections  have  no  innate  propensity  to 
him.  In  short,  in  this  respect,  the  whole  man  is  out  of 
order:  here  he  does  not  at  all  act  like  himself;  here  are 
no  affectionate  thoughts,  no  delightful  meditations,  no 
ardent  desires,  no  eager  pursuits  and  vigorous  endea- 
vors ;  but  all  is  listless,  stupid,  indisposed,  inactive,  and 
averse  :  and  what  is  the  matter  1 — "  Lord !  what  is  this 
that  has  seized  the  souls  of  thine  own  offspring,  that 
they  are  thus  utterty  disordered  towards  thee !  "  The 
reason  is,  they  are  dead,  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins.  It 
is  impossible  a  living  soul  should  be  so  stupid  and  unaf- 
fected with  such  an  object ;  it  must  be  a  dead  soul  that 
has  no  feeling.  Yes,  sinners,  this  is  the  melancholy 
reason  why  you  are  so  thoughtless,  so  unconcerned,  so 
senseless  about  the  God  that  made  you :  you  are  dead. 
And  what  is  the  reason  that  you,  who  have  been  begot- 
ten again  to  a  spiritual  life,  and  who  are  united  to  Christ 
as  your  vital  head,  what  is  the  reason  that  you  so  often 
feel  such  languishments ;  that  the  pulse  of  spiritual  life 
beats  so  faint  and  irregular,  and  that  its  motions  are  so 
feeble  and  slow  1  All  this  you  feel  and  lament,  but  how 
comes  it  to  pass  1  what  can  be  the  cause  that  you,  who 
have  indeed  tasted  that  the  Lord  is  gracious,  and  are 
sensible  that  he  is  all-glorious  and  lovely,  and  your  only 
happiness — O !  what  can  be  the  cause,  that  you,  of  all 
men  in  the  world,  should  be  so  little  engaged  to  him  % 
Alas !  the  cause  is,  you  have  been  dead,  and  the  deadly 
stupor  has  not  yet  left  you :  you  have  (blessed  be  the 
quickening  Spirit  of  Christ !)  you  have  received  a  little 
life  ;  but,  alas !  it  is  a  feeble  spark  ;  it  finds  the  princi- 
ple of  death  still   strong  in  your  constitution  j  these  it 


84  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

must  Struggle  with,  and  by  them  it  is  often  borne  do^\Ti, 
suppressed,  and  just  expiring.  Walk  humbly,  then,  and 
remember  your  shame,  that  you  were  once  dead,  and 
children  of  wrath,  even  as  others.  The  carelessness  and 
indisposition  of  the  soul  towards  the  supreme  Excellence 
will  appear  yet  more  evident  and  astonishing,  if  we 
consider, 

II.  The  august  and  endearing  relations  the  great  and 
blessed  God  sustains  to  us,  and  the  many  ways  he  has 
taken  to  make  dutiful  and  grateful  impressions  upon  our 
hearts.  What  tender  endearments  are  there  contained 
in  the  relation  of  a  Father !  This  he  bears  to  us  :  he 
made  us^  and  not  we  ourselves.  Our  bodies,  indeed,  are 
produced  in  a  succession  from  Adam  by  generation,  but 
who  was  it  that  began  the  series  1  It  was  the  Almighty, 
who  formed  the  first  man  of  the  dust :  it  was  he  who 
first  put  the  succession  of  causes  in  motion  ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  is  the  grand  original  cause,  and  the  whole  chain 
depends  upon  him.  Who  was  it  that  first  established 
the  laws  of  generation,  and  still  continues  them  in  force  1 
It  is  the  all-creating  Parent  of  nature  :  and  without  him 
men  would  have  been  no  more  able  to  produce  one  ano- 
ther than  stones  or  clods  of  earth.  As  to  our  souls,  the 
principal  part  of  our  persons,  God  is  their  immediate 
author,  without  the  least  concurrence  of  secondary 
causes.  Hence  he  is  called  the  Father  of  your  spirits 
in  a  peculiar  sense,  Heb.  xii.  9  j  and  he  assumes  the  en- 
dearing name  of  "  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh." 
Numb.  xri.  22.  Now  the  name  of  a  father  is  wont  to 
carry  some  endearment  and  authority.  Children,  espe- 
cially in  their  young  and  helpless  years,  are  fondof  theii 
father  j  their  little  hearts  beat  with  a  thousand  grateful 
passions  towards  him ;  they  love  to  be  dandled  on  his 
knees,  and  fondled  in  his  arms  :  and  they  fly  to  him  upon 
ewiiry  appearance  of  danger :  but  if  God  be  a  father, 
wh'-'re  is  his  honor  1  here,  alas !  the  filial  passions  are 
senseless  and  immoveable.  It  is  but  a  little  time  since 
we  came  from  his  creating  hand,  and  yet  we  have  for- 
gottei  him.  It  seems  unnatural  for  his  own  offspring  to 
inquire,  "  where  is  God  my  Maker  \  "  They  show  no 
fondness  for  him,  no  affectionate  veneration,  and  no 
humble  confidence ;  their  hearts  are  dead  towards  him, 
as  though  there  were  no  such  being,  or  no  such  near  re- 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  85 

lation  subsisting  between  them.  In  childhood,  a  rattle, 
or  a  straw,  or  any  trifle,  is  more  thought  of  than  their 
heavenly  Father :  in  riper  years,  their  vain  pleasures 
and  secular  pursuits  command  more  of  their  affections 
than  their  divme  original  and  only  happiness. 

Compare  your  natural  temper  towards  your  heavenly 
Father,  and  towards  your  earthly  parents,  and  how  wide 
is  the  difference!  Nature  works  strong  in  your  hearts 
towards  them,  but  towards  him  all  the  filial  passions  are 
dull  and  dead  ;  and  why  %  alas  !  the  reason  is,  you  are 
dead  in  trespasses  and  si?is.  But  this  relation  of  a  Father 
is  not  the  only  relation  our  God  sustains  to  you ;  he  is 
your  supreme  King,  to  whom  you  OAve  allegiance  ;  your 
Lawgiver,  whose  will  is  the  rule  of  your  conduct  ;  and 
your  Judge,  who  Avill  call  you  to  an  account,  and  reward 
or  punish  you  according  to  your  works  ;  but  how  unna- 
tural is  it  to  men  to  revere  the  most  high  God  under 
these  august  characters !  Where  is  there  a  king  upon 
earth,  however  weak  or  tyrannical,  but  is  more  regarded 
by  his  subjects  than  the  King  of  heaven  by  the  generali- 
ty of  men  1  Were  ever  such  excellent  laws  contemned 
and  violated  1  Did  ever  criminals  treat  their  judge  with 
so  much  neglect  and  contempt  ]  And  are  these  souls 
alive  to  God  who  thus  treat  him  '?  No.  Alas  !  "  they 
are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  ;"  however  lively  they 
are  towards  other  things,  yet  in  this  respect  they  are 
seized  with  a  deadly  stupor.  God  is  also  our  Guardian 
and  Deliverer  ;  and  from  how  many  dangers  has  he  pre- 
served us  !  from  how  many  calamities  has  he  delivered 
us  !  Dangers,  distresses,  and  deaths  crowd  upon  us,  and 
surround  us  in  every  age  and  every  place  :  the  air,  the 
earth,  the  sea,  and  every  element,  are  pregnant  with 
numberless  principles  of  pain  and  death  ready  to  seize 
and  destroy  us  :  sickness  and  death  swarm  around  us  : 
nay,  they  lie  in  ambush  in  our  own  constitution,  and  are 
perpetually  undermining  our  lives,  and  yet  our  divine 
Guardian  preserves  us  for  months  and  years  unhurt,  un- 
touched ;  or,  if  he  suffers  the  calamity  to  fall,  or  death 
to  threaten,  he  flies  to  our  deliverance  ;  and  how  many 
salvations  of  this  kind  has  he  wrought  for  us  ;  salvations 
from  accidents,  from  sicknesses,  from  pain,  from  sorrows, 
from  death  ;  salvations  from  dangers  seen  and  unseen  ; 
Balvations  in  infancy,  in  youth,  and  in  maturer  years ! 
8 


86  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

These  things  we  cannot  deny  without  the  most  stupid 
ignorance,  and  an  atheistical  disbelief  of  divine  Provi- 
dence. Now,  such  repeated,  such  long-continued,  such 
unmerited  favors  as  these  would  not  pass  for  nothing  be- 
tween man  and  man.  We  have  hearts  to  feel  such  obli- 
gations ;  nay,  the  ten  thousandth,  the  millionth  part  of 
such  gracious  care  and  goodness  would  be  gratefully  re- 
ceived, and  thankfully  acknowledged.  Indeed  it  is  im- 
possible we  should  receive  even  this  small,  this  very 
small  proportion  of  favors  from  men  in  comparison  of 
what  we  receive  from  God  ;  and  even  when  they  are  the 
instruments  of  our  deliverance,  he  is  the  original  Author. 
But  after  all,  is  there  a  natural  aptitude  in  the  hearts  of 
men  to  think  of  their  gracious  guardian  and  Savior  1  Does 
the  principle  of  gratitude  naturally  lead  them  to  love 
him,  and  to  make  thankful  acknowledgments  to  him  1 
Alas  !  no.  They  may  indeed  feel  some  transient,  super- 
ficial workings  of  gratitude  Avhen  under  the  fresh  sense 
of  some  remarkable  deliverance  ;  but  these  impressions 
soon  wear  off,  and  they  become  as  thoughtless  and  stupid 
as  ever.  But  let  a  man,  like  yourselves,  save  you  from 
some  great  distress,  you  will  always  gratefully  remem- 
ber him,  think  of  him  often  with  pleasure,  and  take  all 
opportunities  of  returning  his  kindness,  especially  if 
your  deliverer  was  much  your  superior,  and  independent 
upon  you  ;  if  you  had  forfeited  his  favor,  provoked  him, 
and  incurred  his  displeasure  :  great  favors  from  such  an 
one  would  make  impressions  upon  the  most  obdurate 
heart. 

But  though  God  be  infinitely  superior  to  us,  and  it  is 
nothing  to  him  what  becomes  of  us,  though  we  have  re- 
belled against  him,  and  deserve  his  vengeance,  yet  ten 
thousand  deliverances  from  his  hands  have  little  or  no 
efiect  upon  the  hearts  of  men  :  all  these  cannot  bring 
them  to  think  of  him,  or  love  him  as  much  as  they  do  a 
friend,  or  a  common  benefactor  of  their  own  species ; 
and  does  such  stupid  ingratitude  discover  any  spiritual 
life  in  them  \  No  :  they  are  dead  in  this  respect,  though 
they  are  all  alive  to  those  passions  that  terminate  upon 
created  objects.  Farther,  God  is  the  Benefactor  of 
mankind,  not  only  in  delivering  them  from  dangers  and 
calamities,  but  in  bestowing  unnumbered  positive  bless- 
ings upon  them.     Here  I  cannot  pretend  to  be  particu 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  87 

lar,  for  the  list  of  blessings  is  endless  ;  and  it  will  be  the 
happy  employment  of  an  eternity  to  recollect  and  enu- 
merate them.  What  an  extensive  and  well-furnished 
world  has  our  God  formed  for  our  accommodation  !  For 
us  he  has  enriched  the  sun  with  light  and  heat,  and  the 
earth  with  fruitfulness.  The  numerous  inhabitants  of 
every  element,  the  plants,  minerals,  and  beasts  of  the 
earth,  the  fishes  of  the  sea,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  are  all 
rendering  their  service  to  man  ;  some  afford  him  food, 
and  others  woi^i:  for  him  :  the  winds  and  seas,  fire  and 
water,  stones  and  trees,  all  conspire  to  be  useful  to  him. 
Our  divine  Benefactor  crowns  us  with  the  blessings  of 
liberty,  of  society,  of  friendship,  and  the  most  endear- 
ing relations :  he  preserves  our  health,  gives  us  "  rain 
from  heaven,  and  fruitful  seasons,  and  fills  our  hearts 
with  food  and  gladness."  In  short,  he  gives  us  life,  and 
breath,  and  all  things  ;  every  day,  every  hour,  every  mo- 
ment has  arrived  to  us  richly  freighted  with  blessings  ; 
blessings  have  resided  with  us  at  home,  and  attended  us 
abroad  ;  blessings  presented  themselves  ready  for  our 
enjoyment  as  soon  as  we  entered  into  the  world  ;  then 
God  provided  hands  to  receive  us,  knees  to  support  us, 
breasts  to  suckle  us,  and  parents  to  guard  and  cherish 
us  ;  blessings  have  gro^^Ti  up  with  us,  and  given  such 
constant  attendance,  that  they  are  become  familiar  to  us, 
and  are  the  inseparable  companions  of  our  lives.  It  is  no 
new  or  useful  thing  to  us  to  see  an  illustrious  sun  ris- 
ing to  give  us  the  day,  to  enjoy  repose  in  the  night, 
to  rise  refreshed  and  vigorous  in  the  morning,  to  see  our 
tables  spread  with  plenty,  the  trees  covered  with  fruit, 
the  fields  with  grain,  and  various  forms  of  animals 
growing  up  for  our  support  or  service.  These  are 
such  familiar  blessings  to  us,  that  they  too  often  seem 
things  of  course,  or  necessary  appendages  of  our  being. 
What  a  crowd  of  blessings  have  crowned  the  present 
morning !  You  and  yours  are  alive  and  well,  you  have 
not  come  hither  ghastly  and  pining  with  hunger,  or 
agonizing  with  pain.  How  many  refreshing  draughts  of 
air  have  you  drawn  this  morning  !  how  many  sprightly 
and  regular  pulses  have  beat  through  your  frame  !  how 
many  easy  motions  have  you  performed  with  hands, 
feet,  eyes,  tongue,  and  other  members  of  your  body  ! 
and  are  n  )t  all  these  favors  from  God  1       Yes,  imdoubt- 


88  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

edly ;  and  thus  has  he  gone  on  blessing  you  all  your 
days,  without  any  interruption  at  all  in  many  of  these 
particulars  of  kindness,  and  with  but  very  little  in  the 
rest.  Sinful  and  miserable  as  this  world  is,  it  is  a  trea- 
sury rich  in  blessings,  a  storehouse  full  of  provisions,  .a 
dwelling  well  furnished  for  the  accommodation  of  mor- 
tals, and  all  by  the  care,  and  at  the  expense  of  that  gra' 
cious  God  who  first  made  and  still  preserves  it  what  it 
is.  "  Lord,  whence  is  it  then  that  the  inhabitants  forget 
and  neglect  thee,  as  though  they  were  not  at  all  obliged 
to  thee  %  O  !  whence  is  it  that  they  love  thy  gifts,  and 
yet  disregard  the  Giver  1  that  they  think  less  of  thee 
than  an  earthly  father  or  friend,  or  a  human  benefactor  ; 
that  there  should  be  so  little  gratitude  towards  thee,  that 
of  all  benefactors  thou  shouldst  be  the  least  acknow- 
ledged ;  that  the  benefactors  of  nations,  and  even  of  pri- 
vate persons,  in  instances  unworthy  to  be  mentioned 
with  those  of  thy  goodness,  should  be  celebrated,  and 
even  adored,  while  thou  art  neglected,  thine  agency 
overlooked,  and  thy  goodness  forgotten  (  O  !  whence 
is  this  strange  phenomenon,  this  unaccountable,  unpre- 
cedented stupidity  and  ingratitude  in  reasonable  crea- 
tures 1  Surely,  if  they  had  any  life,  any  sensation  in 
this  respect,  they  would  not  be  capable  of  such  a  con- 
duct ;  but  they  are  dead,  dead  to  all  the  generous  sensa- 
tions of  gratitude  to  God  ;  and  as  a  dead  corpse  feels  no 
gratitude  to  those  that  perform  the  last  friendly  office, 
and  cover  it  v/ith  earth,  so  a  dead  soul  stands  unmoved 
under  all  the  profusion  of  blessings  which  Heaven  pours 
upon  it. 

The  blessings  I  have  mentioned,  which  are  confined  to 
the  present  state,  are  great,  and  deserve  our  wonder  and 
thanksgiving  ;  especially,  considering  that  they  are 
bestowed  upon  a  race  of  rebellious,  ungrateful  creatures, 
who  deserve  the  severest  vengeance  ;  but  there  is  a  set 
of  blessings  yet  unmentioned,  of  infinitely  greater  im- 
portance, in  which  all  others  are  swallowed  up,  by  the 
glory  of  which  they  are  obscured,  like  the  stars  of  night 
by  the  rising  sun.  To  some  of  our  race  God  has  given 
crowns  and  kingdoms.  For  Israel  Jehovah  Avrought 
the  most  astonishing  miracles  ;  seas  and  rivers  opened 
to  make  way  for  them  ;  rocks  burst  into  springs  of  water 
to  querch  their  thirst ;  the  clouds  poured  down  manna. 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  89 

and  fed  them  with  bread  from  heaven  ;  their  God  de- 
hvered  Daniel  from  the  jaws  of  hungry  lions,  and  his 
three  companions  from  the  burning  fiery  furnace.  He 
has  restored  health  to  the  sick,  sight  to  the  blind,  and 
life  to  the  dead.  These  blessings  and  deliverances  have 
something  majestic  and  striking  in  them :  and  had  we 
been  the  subjects  of  them,  we  could  not  but  have  regard- 
ed them  as  great  and  singular  ;  but  what  are  these  in 
comparison  of  God's  gift  of  his  Son,  and  the  blessings  he 
has  purchased !  his  Son,  who  is  of  greater  value,  and 
dearer  to  him  than  ten  thousand  worlds  ;  his  beloved 
Son,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleased  ;  him  has  he  given  for 
us,  given  up  to  three-and-thirty  years  of  the  most  mor- 
tifying abasement,  and  an  incessant  conflict  with  the 
severest  trials  ;  given  up  to  death,  and  all  the  ignominy 
and  agonies  of  crucifixion.  Thus  has  God  loved  our 
world !  and  never  was  there  such  a  display  of  love  in 
heaven  or  on  earth.  You  can  no  more  find  love  equal 
to  this  among  creatures,  than  you  can  find  among  them 
the  infinite  power  that  formed  the  universe  out  of  noth- 
ing. This  will  stand  upon  record  to  all  eternity,  as  the 
unprecedented,  unparalleled,  inimitable  love  of  God. 
And  it  appears  the  more  illustrious  when  we  consider 
that  this  unspeakable  gift  was  given  to  sinners,  to  rebels, 
to  enemies,  that  were  so  far  from  deserving  it,  that,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  is  a  miracle  of  mercy  that  they  are  not 
all  groaning  for  ever  under  the  tremendous  w^eight  of  his 
justice.  O  !  that  I  could  say  something  becoming  this 
love  ;  something  that  might  do  honor  to  it  !  but,  alas  ! 
the  language  of  mortals  was  formed  for  lower  subjects. 
This  love  passes  all  description  and  all  knowledge. 
Consider  also  what  rich  blessings  Christ  has  purchased 
for  us ;  purchased  not  with  such  corruptible  things  as 
silver  and  gold,  but  with  his  own  precious  blood ;  the 
price  recommends  and  endears  the  blessings,  though  they 
are  so  great  in  themselves,  as  to  need  no  such  recom- 
mendation !  What  can  be  greater  or  more  suitable 
blessings  to  persons  in  our  circumstances,  than  pardon 
for  the  guilty,  redemption  for  slaves,  righteousness  and 
justification  for  the  condemned,  sanctification  for  the 
unholy,  rest  for  the  weary,  comfort  for  mourners,  the 
favor  of  God  for  rebels  and  exiles,  strength  for  the  im- 
potent, protection  for  the  helpless,  everlasting  happiness 
8* 


90  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

for  the  heirs  of  hell,  and,  to  sum  up  all,  grace  and  glory, 
and  every  good  thing,  and  all  the  unsearchable  riches  of 
Christ  for  the  wretched  and  miserable,  the  poor,  the 
blind,  and  naked  !  These  are  blessings  indeed,  and,  in 
comparison  of  them,  all  the  riches  of  the  world  are  im- 
poverished, and  vanish  to  nothing ;  and  all  these  bless- 
ings are  published,  offered  freely,  indefinitely  offered  to 
you,  to  me,  to  the  greatest  sinner  on  earth,  in  the  gos- 
pel ;  and  we  are  allowed, — allowed,  did  I  say  1  we  are 
invited  with  the  utmost  importunity,  entreated  with  the 
most  compassionate  tenderness  and  condescension,  and 
commanded  by  the  highest  authority,  upon  pain  of  eter- 
nal damnation,  to  accept  the  blessings  presented  to  us  ! 
And  what  reception  does  all  this  love  meet  with  in  our 
vvorld  1     I  tremble  to  think  of  it. 

It  is  plain,  these  things  are  proposed  to  a  world  dead 
in  sin  ;  for  they  are  all  still,  all  unmoved,  all  senseless 
under  such  a  revelation  of  infinite  grace  ;  mankind 
know  not  what  it  is  to  be  moved,  melted,  transported 
with  the  love  of  a  crucified  Savior,  till  divine  grace 
visits  their  hearts,  and  forms  them  into  new  creatures  ; 
they  feel  no  longer  solicitude,  nay,  not  so  much  as  Avill- 
ingness  to  receive  these  blessings,  till  they  become  will- 
ing by  Almighty  power:  and  jadge  ye,  my  brethren, 
whether  they  are  not  dead  souls  that  are  proof  even 
against  the  love  of  God  in  Christ,  that  are  not  moved 
and  melted  by  the  agonies  of  his  cross,  that  are  careless 
about  such  inestimable  blessings  as  these  1  Has  that 
soul  any  spiritual  life  in  it,  that  can  sit  senseless  under 
the  cross  of  Jesus,  that  can  forget  him,  neglect  him,  dis- 
honor him,  after  all  his  love  and  all  his  sufferings :  that 
feels  a  prevailing  indifference  and  languor  towards  him ; 
that  loves  him  less  than  an  earthly  friend,  and  seeks  him 
with  less  eagerness  than  gold  and  silver  %  Is  not  every 
generous  passion,  every  principle  of  gratitude  quite  ex- 
tinct in  such  a  spirit  1  It  may  be  alive  to  other  objects, 
bat  towards  this  it  is  dead,  and  alas !  is  not  this  the  com- 
mon case  \  0  look  round  the  world,  and  what  do  you 
see  but  a  general  neglect  of  the  blessed  Jesus,  and  all 
the  blessings  of  his  gospel  1  How  cold,  how  untoward, 
how  reluctant,  how  averse  are  the  hearts  of  men  towards 
him  1  how  hard  to  persuade  them  to  think  of  him 
and  love  him  1     Try  to  persuade  men  to  give  over  their 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH. 


sins  which  grieve  him,  dishonor  him,  and  were  the 
cause  of  his  death  ;  trj?-  to  engage  them  to  devote  theiu- 
seh-es  entirely  to  him,  and  live  to  his  glory,  alas  !  you 
try  in  vain  ;  their  hearts  still  continue  cold  and  hard  as 
a  stone  ;  try  to  persuade  them  to  murder  or  robbery, 
and  you  are  more  likely  to  prevail.  Sufler  me,  in  my 
astonishment,  to  repeat  this  most  melancholy  truth 
again  ;  the  generality  of  mankind  are  habitually  care- 
less about  the  blessed  Jesus  ;  they  will  not  seek  him, 
nor  give  their  hearts  and  afiections,  though  they  must 
perish  for  ever  by  their  neglect  of  him  !  Astonishing, 
and  most  lamentable,  that  ever  such  perverseness  and 
stupidity  should  seize  the  soul  of  man  1  Methinks  I 
could  here  take  up  a  lamentation  over  human  nature, 
and  fall  on  my  knees  with  this  prayer  for  my  fellow  men, 
"  Father  of  spirits,  and  Lord  of  life,  quicken,  O  quicken 
these  dead  souls !"  O,  Sirs,  while  we  see  death  all 
around  us,  and  feel  it  benumbing  our  own  souls,  who 
can  help  the  most  bitter  wailing  and  lamentation  1  who 
can  restrain  himself  from  crying  to  the  great  Author  of 
life  for  a  happy  resurrection  1  While  the  valley  of  dry 
bones  lies  before  me,  while  the  carnage,  the  charnel- 
house  of  immortal  souls  strikes  my  sight  ail  around  me 
far  and  wide,  how  can  I  forbear  crying.  Come  from  the 
four  winds,  0  breathe  :  breathe  upon  these  slain,  that  they 
may  live.  But  to  turn  from  this  digression,  into  which 
1  was  unavoidably  hurried  by  the  horror  of  the  subject, 
I  would  observe  farther^  that  kind  usage  and  pleasing 
treatment  may  not  always  be  best  for  such  creatures  as 
we  are  :  fatherly  severities  and  chastisements,  though 
not  agreeable  to  us,  yet  may  be  necessary  and  condu- 
cive to  our  greatest  good.  Accordingly,  God  has  tried 
the  force  of  chastisements  to  make  impressions  on  our 
hearts  :  these  indeed  have  been  but  few  in  comparison 
of  his  more  agreeable  dispensations ;  yet  recollect 
whether  you  have  not  frequently  felt  his  rod.  Have  you 
not  languished  under  sickness  and  pain,  and  been  brought 
within  a  near  view  of  the  king  of  terrors  ?  Have  you 
not  suffered  the  bereavement  of  friends  and  relations,  and 
met  with  losses,  adversity  and  disappointments  \  Oth- 
ers have  felt  still  greater  calamities  in  a  closer  succes- 
sion, and  with  fewer  mercies  intermixed.  These  things, 
one  would  think,  would  immediately  bring  men  to  re- 


92  THE    NATURE    AND    UNIVERSALITY 

gard  the  hand  that  smites  them,  and  make  them  sensible 
of  their  undutiful  conduct,  which  has  procured  the  cor- 
rection ;  these  are  like  the  application  of  fire  to  one  in 
a  letharg-y,  to  awaken  him  to  life  ;  but  alas !  under  all 
these  afflictions  the  stupor  and  insensibility  still  remain. 
Sinners  groan  by  reason  of  oppression,  but  it  is  no-t 
natural  tor  them  to  inquire,  Where  is  God  my  Maker ^ 
that  giveth  songs  in  the  night  ?  It  is  not  natural  for  them 
to  repent  of  their  undutiful  conduct  and  amend  ;  or  if 
they  are  awakened  to  some  little  sense,  while  the  pain- 
ful rod  of  the  Almighty  is  yet  upon  them,  as  soon  as  it  is 
removed  they  become  as  hardened  and  senseless  as  ever. 
And  is  not  a  state  of  death  a  very  proper  representation 
of  such  sullen,  incorrigible  stupidity  %  Living  souls  have 
very  tender  sensations ;  one  touch  of  their  heavenly 
Father's  hand  makes  deep  impressions  upon  them  ;  they 
tremble  at  his  frown,  they  fall  and  Aveep  at  his  feet,  they 
confess  their  offences,  and  mourn  over  them  ;  they  fly 
to  the  arms  of  mercy  to  escape  the  impending  blow  ; 
and  thus  would  all  do  were  they  not  quite  destitute  of 
spiritual  life. 

1  have  materials  sufficient  for  a  discourse  of  some 
hours  ;  but  at  present  I  must  abruptly  drop  the  subject : 
how^ever,  I  cannot  dismiss  you  without  making  a  few 
reflections.     And, 

1.  What  a  strange,  aflecting  view  does  this  subject 
give  us  of  this  assembly  !  I  doubt  not  but  I  may  accom- 
modate the  text  to  some  of  you  with  this  agreeable  ad- 
dition, "  You  hath  he  quickened,  though  you  were  once 
dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  Though  the  vital  pulse 
beats  faint  and  irregular,  and  your  spiritual  life  is  but 
very  low,  yet,  blessed  be  God,  you  are  not  entirely 
dead :  you  have  some  living  sensations,  some  lively  and 
vigorous  exercises  in  religion.  On  the  other  hand,  1 
doubt  not  but  some  of  you  not  only  were,  but  still  are, 
dead  in  trespasses  ajid  sins.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  in 
our  world,  at  least  not  before  the  millennium,  that  we  shall 
see  such  a  mixed  company  together,  and  ail  living  souls. 
Here  then  is  the  dificrence  between  you  ;  some  of  you 
are  spiritually  alive,  and  some  of  you  are  spiritually  dead  ; 
here  the  living  and  the  dead  are  blended  together  in  the 
same  assembly,  on  the  same  seat,  and  united  in  the  nearest 
relations :  here  sits  a  dead  soul,  there  another,  and  there 


OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH.  93 

another,  and  a  few  living  souls  scattered  here  and  there 
among-  them  ;  here  is  a  dead  parent  and  a  living  child,  or 
a  dead  child  and  a  living  parent  ;  here  life  and  death  (O 
shocking  !)  are  united  in  the  bonds  of  conjugal  love,  and 
dwell  under  the  same  roof :  here  is  a  dead  servant  and  a 
living  master  :  and  there  a  dead  master  (0  terrible  !)  com- 
mands a  living  servant.  Should  I  trace  the  distinction  be- 
yond this  assembly  mto  the  world,  we  shall  find  a  family 
here  and  there  that  have  a  little  life  ;  perhaps  one,  per- 
haps two,  discover  some  vitai  symptoms  ;  but  O  what 
crowds  of  dead  families  !  all  dead  together,  and  no  en- 
deavors used  to  brmg  one  another  to  life  ;  a  death-like 
silence  about  eternal  thmgs  ;  a  deadly  stupor  and  insen- 
sibility reign  among  them ;  they  breathe  out  no  desires 
and  prayers  after  God,  nor  does  the  vital  pulse  of  love 
beat  in  their  hearts  towards  him ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
their  souls  are  putrefying  in  sin,  which  is  very  emphati- 
cally called  corruption  by  the  sacred  writers  ;  they  are 
overrun  and  devoured  by  their  lusts,  and  worms  insult 
and  destroy  the  dead  body.  Call  to  them,  they  will  not 
awake  ;  thunder  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  in  their  ears, 
they  will  not  hear  ;  offer  them  all  the  blessings  of  the  gos- 
pel, they  will  not  stretch  out  the  hand  of  faith  to  receive 
them ;  lay  the  word  of  God,  the  bread  of  life,  before 
them,  they  have  no  appetite  for  it.  In  short,  the  plain 
symptoms  of  death  are  upon  them  :  the  animal  is  alive, 
but  alas !  the  spirit  is  dead  towards  God.  And  what  an 
affecting,  melancholy  view  does  this  give  of  this  assem- 
bly, and  of  the  world  in  general!  0  that  my  head  were 
iraters,  and  mine  eyes  fou7itains  of  tears^  that  I  viight  weep 
day  and  night  for  the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  people  ! 
V/eep  not  for  the  afflicted,  weep  not  over  ghastly  corpses 
dissolving  into  their  original  dust,  but  0  !  weep  for  dead 
^ouls.  Should  God  now  strike  all  those  persons  dead 
in  this  assembly,  whose  souls  are  dead  in  trespasses  and 
sins^  should  he  lay  them  all  in  pale  corpses  before  us, 
like  Ananias  and  Sapphira  at  the  apostles'  feet,  what 
numbers  of  you  would  never  return  from  this  house 
more,  and  what  lamentations  would  there  be  among  the 
surviving  few  !  One  would  lose  a  husband  or  a  wife, 
another  a  son  or  a  daughter,  another  a  father  or  a  mo- 
ther ;  alas  !  would  not  some  whole  families  be  swept  off 
together,  all  blended  in  one  promiscuous  death  1     Such 


94       >.ATURE    A.ND    UA'IVPIUSALITV    OF    SPIRITUAL    DEATH. 

a  sight  as  this  would  strike  terror  into  the  hardiest 
heart  among  you.  But  what  is  this  to  a  company  of  ra- 
tional spirits  slain  and  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  % 
How  deplorable  and  inexpressibly  melancholy  a  sight 
this !     Therefore, 

2.  Awake  thou  that  sleepest^  and  arise  from  the  dead,  that 
Christ  may  give  thee  light.  This  call  is  directed  to  you, 
dead  sinners ;  which  is  a  sufficient  warrant  for  me  to 
exhort  and  persuade  you.  The  principle  of  reason  is 
still  alive  in  you  ;  you  are  also  sensible  of  your  own 
interest,  and  feel  the  workings  of  self-love.  It  is  God 
alone  that  can  quicken  you,  but  he  effects  this  by  a 
power  that  does  not  exclude,  but  attends  rational  in- 
structions and  persuasions  to  your  understanding. 
Therefore,  though  I  am  sure  you  will  continue  dcivl  still 
if  left  to  yourselves,  yet  with  some  trembling  hopes  that 
his  power  may  accompany  my  feeble  words,  and  impreg- 
nate them  with  life,  I  call  upon,  I  entreat,  I  charge  you 
sinners  to  rouse  yourselves  out  of  your  dead  sleep,  and 
seek  to  obtain  spiritual  life.  Now,  Vv^hile  my  voice 
sounds  in  your  ears,  now,  this  moment,  waft  up  this 
prayer,  "  Lord,  pity  a  dead  soul,  a  soul  that  has  been 
dead  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  years  or  more,  and 
lain  corrupting  in  sin,  and  say  unto  me.  Live :  from  this 
moment  let  me  live  unto  thee."  Let  this  prayer  be  still 
upon  your  hearts :  keep  your  souls  always  in  a  suppli- 
cating posture,  and  who  knows  but  that  he,  who  raised 
Lazarus  from  the  grave,  may  give  you  a  spiritual  resur- 
rection to  a  more  important  life  1  But  if  you  wilfully 
continue  your  security,  expect  in  a  little  time  to  suffer 
the  second  death;  the  mortification  will  become  incura- 
ble ;  and  then,  though  you  will  be  still  dead  to  God,  yet 
you  will  be  "  tremblingly  alive  all  over"  to  the  sensa- 
tions of  pain  and  torture.  O  that  I  could  gain  but  this 
one  request  of  you,  which  your  o^vn  interest  so  strong- 
ly enforces  !  but  alas !  it  has  been  so  often  refused,  that 
to  expect  to  prevail  is  to  hope  against  hope. 

3.  Let  the  children  of  God  be  sensible  of  their  great 
happiness  in  being  made  spiritually  alive.  Life  is  a  prin- 
ciple, a  capacity  necessary  for  enjoyments  of  any  kind. 
Without  animal  life  you  would  be  as  incapable  of  animal 
pleasures  as  a  stone  or  a  clod  ;  and  without  spiritual  life 
you  can  no  more  enjoy  the  happiness  of  heaven  than  a 


THE    IMATURE    AND    PROCESS    OF    SPIRITUvil     LIFE.  95 

beast  or  a  devil.  This  therefore  is  a  preparative,  a  pre- 
vious qualification,  and  a  sure  pledge  and  earnest  of 
everlasting  life.  How  highly  then  are  you  distinguished, 
and  what  cause  have  you  for  gratitude  and  praise  ! 

4.  Let  us  all  be  sensible  of  this  important  truth,  tliat 
it  is  entirely  by  grace  we  are  saved.  This  is  the  infer- 
ence the  apostle  expressly  makes  from  tiiis  doctrine  : 
and  he  is  so  full  of  it,  that  he  throws  it  into  a  parenthe- 
sis, (verse  the  5th)  though  it  breaks  the  connection  of 
his  discourse  :  and  as  soon  as  he  has  room  he  resumes 
it  again,  (verse  8th)  and  repeats  it  over  and  over,  in  va- 
rious forms,  in  the  compass  of  a  few  verses.  By  grace 
ye  are  saved.  By  grace  are  you  saved  through  faith.  It  is 
the  gift  of  God  ; — not  of  yourselves — not  of  works,  (verse 
9th.)  This,  you  see,  is  an  inference  that  seemed  of 
great  importance  to  the  apostle ;  and  what  can  more  na- 
turally follow  from  the  premises  1  If  we  were  once  dead 
in  sin,  certainly  it  is  owing  to  the  freest  grace  that  we 
have  been  quickened  ;  therefore,  when  we  survey  the 
change,  let  us  cry,  "  Grace,  grace  unto  it." 


SERMON  V. 

THE    NATURE    AND    PROCESS    OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE, 

Ephes.  ii.  4-,  5. — But  God^  ivho  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his 
great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  were  dead 
in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ. 

It  is  not  my  usual  method  to  weary  your  attention  by 
a  long  confinement  to  one  subject ;  and  our  religion  fur- 
nishes us  wdth  such  a  boundless  variety  of  important 
topics,  that  a  minister  who  makes  them  his  study  will 
find  no  temptation  to  cloy  you  with  repetitions,  but 
rather  finds  it  difficult  to  speak  so  concisely  on  one 
subject,  as  to  leave  room  for  others  of  equal  importance  ; 
however,  the  subject  of  my  last  discourse  was  so  copious 
and  interesting,  that  I  cannot  dismiss   it  without  a  sup- 


96  THE    NATURE    Al^D    PROCESS 

plement.  I  there  showed  you  some  of  the  symptoms  of 
spiritual  death ;  but  I  would  not  leave  you  dead  as  I 
found  you  5  and  therefore  I  intend  now  to  consider  the 
counterpart  of  that  subject,  and  show  you  the  nature 
and  symptoms  of  spiritual  life. 

I  doubt  not  but  a  number  of  you  have  been  made  alive 
to  God  by  his  quickening  spirit ;  but  many,  I  fear,  still 
continue  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  ;  and,  while  such  are 
around  me,  I  cannot  help  imagining  my  situation  some- 
thing like  that  of  the  prophet  Ezekiel  (chap,  xxxvii.)  in 
the  midst  of  the  valley  full  of  dry  bones,  spread  far  and 
wide  around  him  :  and  should  I  be  asked.  Can  these  dry 
bones^  can  these  dead  souls  live  ?  I  must  answer  with 
him, — 0  Lord  God,  thou  knowest.  Lord,  I  see  no  symp- 
toms of  life  in  them,  no  tendency  towards  it.  I  know 
nothing  is  impossible  to  thee  ;  I  firmly  believe  thou  canst 
inspire  them  with  life,  dry  and  dead  as  they  are  ;  and 
what  thy  designs  are  towards  them,  whether  thou  in- 
tendest  to  exert  thy  all-quickening  power  upon  them, 
thou  only  knoAvest,  and  I  would  not  presume  to  deter- 
mine ;  but  this  I  know,  that,  if  they  are  left  to  them- 
selves, they  will  continue  dead  to  all  eternity ;  for,  O 
Lord,  the  experiment  has  been  repeatedly  tried  ;  thy 
servant  has  over  and  over  made  those  quickening  appli- 
cations to  them,  which  thy  word,  that  sacred  dispensary, 
prescribes  ;  but  all  in  vain :  they  still  continue  dead  to- 
wards thee,  and  lie  putrefying  more  and  more  in  tres- 
passes and  sins :  however,  at  thy  command,  I  would  at- 
tempt the  most  unpromising  undertaking ;  I  would  pro- 
claim even  unto  dry  bones  and  dead  souls,  0  ye  dry  bones^ 
O  ye  dead  souls,  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord.  Ezek.  xxxvii. 
4<.  I  would  also  cry  aloud  for  the  animating  breath  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  Come  from  the  four  winds  and  breathe  ;  breathe 
upon  these  slain,  that  they  may  live,  v.  9. 

Ye  dead  sinners,  I  would  make  one  attempt  more  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord  to  bring  you  to  life  ;  and  if  I  have 
the  least  hope  of  success,  it  is  entirely  owing  to  the  en- 
couraging peradventure  that  the  quickening  spirit  of 
Christ  may  work  upon  your  hearts  while  I  am  addressing 
myself  to  your  ears.  And,  O  sirs,  let  us  all  keep  our 
souls  in  a  praying  posture,  throughout  this  discourse. 
If  one  of  you  should  fall  into  a  swoon  or  an  apoplexy,  how 
would  alJ  about  you  bestir  themselves  to  bring  you  to 


01<     SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  97 

life  again  !  And  alas !  shall  dead  souls  lie  so  thick  among 
us,  in  every  asscmbl}-,  in  every  family;  and  shall  no 
means  be  used  for  their  recovery  \  Did  Martha  and  Mary 
apply  to  Jesus  with  all  the  arts  of  importunity  in  be- 
l-.alf  of  their  sick  and  deceased  brother,  and  are  there 
not  some  of  you  that  have  dead  relations,  dear  friends 
find  neighbors,  I  mean  dead  in  the  worst  sense,  "  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  1"  and  will  you  not  apply  to  Jesus, 
the  Lord  of  life,  and  follow  him  with  your  importunate 
cries,  till  he  come  and  call  them  to  life  1  Now  let  pa- 
rents turn  intercessors  for  their  children,  children  for 
their  parents,  friend  for  friend,  neighbor  for  neighbor, 
yea,  enemy  for  enemy  0 !  should  we  all  take  this 
method,  we  might  soon  expect  to  see  the  valley  of  dry 
bones  full  of  living  souls,  an  exceeding  great  army.  Ezek. 
xxxvii.  10. 

In  praying  for  this  great  and  glorious  event,  you  do 
not  pray  for  an  impossibility.  Thousands  as  dead  as 
they,  have  obtained  a  joyful  resurrection  by  the  power 
of  God.  Here  in  my  text  you  have  an  instance  of  a 
promiscuous  crowd  of  Jews  and  Gentiles  that  had  lain 
dead  in  sin  together,  and  even  St.  Paul  among  them,  who 
were  recovered  to  life,  and  are  now  enjoying  an  immor- 
tal life  in  the  heavenly  regions;  and,  blessed  be  God, 
this  spiritual  life  is  not  entirely  extinct  among  us. 
Among  the  multitudes  of  dead  souls  that  we  every  where 
meet  with,  we  find  here  and  there  a  soul  that  has  very 
different  symptoms :  once  indeed  it  was  like  the  rest ; 
but  now,  while  they  are  quite  senseless  of  divine  things, 
and  have  no  vital  aspirations  after  God,  this  soul  cannot 
be  content  with  the  richest  affluence  of  created  enjoy- 
ments ;  it  pants  and  breathes  after  God ;  it  feeds  upon 
his  word,  it  feels  an  almighty  energy  in  eternal  things, 
and  receives  vital  sensations  from  them.  It  discovers 
life  and  vigor  in  devotion,  and  serves  the  living  God 
with  pleasure,  though  it  is  also  subject  to  fits  of  lan- 
guishment,*  and  at  times  seems  just  expiring,  and  to  lose 
all  sensation.  And  whence  is  this  vast  difference  1 
Why  is  this  soul  so  different  from  what  it  once  was, 
and  what  thousands  around  still  are  1  Why  can  it  not, 
like  them,  and  like  itself  formerly,  lie  dead  and  sense- 
less in  sin,  without  any  vital  impressions  or  experiences 
from  God  or  divine  things  ?  The  reason  is.  the  happy 
9 


98  THE  NATURE  AKD  PROCESS 

reason,  my  brethren,  is,  this  is  a  living  soul :  "  God,  out 
of  the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  it,  hath  quickened 
it  together  with  Christ,"  and  hence  it  is  alive  to  him. 

My  present  design  is  to  explain  the  nature  and  pro- 
perties of  this  divine  life,  and  to  shoAV  you  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  usually  begun  in  the  soul :  I  shall  open 
with  the  consideration  of  the  last  particular. 

Here  you  must  observe,  that,  though  spiritual  life  is 
instantaneously  infused,  yet  God  prepares  the  soul  for 
its  reception  by  a  course  of  previous  operations.  He 
spent  six  days  in  the  creation  of  the  world,  though  he 
might  have  spoken  it  into  being  in  an  instant.  Thus  he 
usually  creates  the  soul  anew  after  a  gradual  process  of 
preparatory  actions.  In  forming  the  first  man,  he  first 
created  chaos  out  of  nothing,  then  he  digested  it  into 
earth  ;  on  the  sixth  day  he  formed  and  organized  the 
earth  into  a  body,  with  all  its  endless  variety  of  members, 
juices,  muscles,  fibres,  veins,  and  arteries ;  and  then,  af- 
ter this  process,  he  inspired  it  with  a  living  soul ;  and 
what  was  but  a  lump  of  clay,  sprung  up  a  perfect  man. 
Thus  also  the  foetus  in  the  womb  is  for  some  months  in 
formation  before  the  soul,  or  the  principle  of  life  is  in- 
fused. In  like  manner  the  Almighty  proceeds  in  quick- 
ening us  with  spiritual  life  ;  we  all  pass  through  a  course 
of  preparation,  though  some  through  a  longer,  and  some 
shorter.  And  as  one  reason  why  the  great  Creator  took 
up  so  much  time  in  the  creation  of  the  world,  probably 
was,  that  he  might  allow  the  angels  time  for  leisurely 
surveys  of  the  astonishing  process,  so  he  may  advance 
thus  gradually  in  the  new  creation,  that  we  may  observe 
the  various  steps  of  the  operation,  and  make  proper  re- 
flections upon  it  in  future  life.  My  present  design  is  to 
trace  these  steps  to  their  grand  result,  that  you  may 
know  whether  ever  divine  grace  has  carried  you  through 
this  gracious  process. 

And  that  you  may  not  fall  into  needless  perplexities, 
it  may  be  necessary  for  me  to  premise  farther,  that  there 
is  a  great  variety  in  these  preparatory  operations,  and 
in  the  degrees  of  spiritual  life.  Indeed  the  difference  is 
only  circumstantial,  for  the  work  is  substantially  the 
same,  and  spiritual  life  is  substantially  the  same  in  all  ; 
but  then,  in  such  circumstances  as  the  length  of  time, 
the   particular  external  means,  the  degree  of  previous 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  99 

terror,  and  of  subsequent  joy  and  vitality,  &c.  God  ex- 
ercises a  sovereign  freedom,  and  shows  that  he  has  a 
variety  of  ways  by  which  to  accomplish  his  end  ;  and  it 
is  no  matter  how  we  obtain  it,  if  we  have  but  spiritual 
life.  I  shall  therefore  endeavor  to  confine  myself  to 
the  substance  of  this  work,  without  its  peculiarities,  in 
different  subjects  ;  and,  when  I  cannot  avoid  descending 
to  particulars,  I  shall  endeavor  so  to  diversify  them,  as 
that  they  may  be  easily  adapted  to  the  various  cases  of 
different  Christians.  To  draw  their  common  lineaments, 
whereby  they  may  be  distinguished  from  all  others,  is 
sufficient  to  my  present  purpose  :  whereas,  to  draw  the 
particular  lineaments,  or  peculiar  features,  whereby  they 
may  be  distinguished  from  one  another,  is  a  very  diffi- 
cult task,  and  cannot  be  of  any  great  service  to  what  I 
have  now  in  design. 

I  have  only  one  thing  more  to  premise,  and  that  is, 
that  the  way  by  which  divine  grace  prepares  a  sinner 
for  spiritual  life,  is  by  working  upon  all  the  principles  of 
the  rational  life,  and  exciting  him  to  exert  them  to  the 
utmost  to  obtain  it.  Here  it  is  proper  for  you  to  recol- 
lect what  I  observed  in  my  last  discourse,  that  even  a 
sinner  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  is  alive,  and  capable 
of  action  in  other  respects  :  he  can  not  only  perform  the 
actions  and  feel  the  sensations  of  animal  life,  but  he  can 
also  exercise  his  intellectual  powers  about  intellectual 
objects,  and  even  about  divine  things :  he  is  capable  of 
thinking  of  these,  and  of  receiving  some  impressions 
from  them  :  he  is  also  capable  of  attending  upon  the  or- 
dinances of  the  gospel,  and  performing  the  external  du- 
ties of  religion.  These  things  a  sinner  may  do,  and  yet 
be  dead  in  sin.  Indeed  he  will  not  exercise  his  natural 
powers  about  these  things  while  left  to  himself :  he  has 
the  power,  but  then  he  has  no  disposition  to  employ  it : 
he  is  indeed  capable  of  meditating  upon  spiritual  things, 
but  what  does  this  avail  when  he  will  not  turn  his  mind 
to  such  objects  1  or  if  he  does,  he  considers  them  as 
mere  speculations,  and  not  as  the  most  interesting  and 
important  realities.  How  few,  or  how  superficial  and 
unaffecting  are  a  sinner's  thoughts  of  them  !  Heaven 
and  hell  are  objects  that  may  strike  the  passions,  and 
raise  the  joys  and  fears  of  a  natural  man,  but  in  general 
he  is  little   or  nothing  impressed  with  them.     He  is  ca- 


too  THE    NATURE    AND    PROCESS 

pable  of  prayer,  hearing,  and  using  the  means  of  grace ; 
but  I  beheve,  if  you  make  observations  upon  the  con- 
duct of  mankind,  that  you  will  find  they  are  but  seldom 
employed  in  these  duties,  or  that  they  perform  them  in 
such  a  careless  manner,  that  they  have  no  tendency  to 
answer  the  end  of  their  institution.  In  siiort,  the  more 
1  know  of  mankind,  I  have  the  lower  opinion  of  what 
they  will  do  in  religion  when  left  to  themselves.  They 
have  a  natural  power,  and  we  have  seen  all  possible 
means  used  with  them  to  excite  them  to  put  it  forth ; 
but  alas  !  all  is  in  vain,  and  nothing  will  be  done  to  pur- 
pose till  God  stir  them  up  to  exert  their  natural  abili- 
ties ;  and  this  he  performs  as  a  preparative  for  spiritual 
life.  He  brings  the  sinner  to  exert  all  his  active  powers 
in  seeking  this  divine  principle  :  nature  does  her  utmost, 
and  all  outward  means  are  tried  before  a  supernatural 
principle  is  implanted. 

The  evangelist  John  has  given  us  the  history  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead  body  of  Lazarus  after  it  had 
been  four  days  in  the  grave  ;  and  I  would  now  give  you 
the  history  of  a  more  glorious  resurrection,  the  resurrec- 
tion of  a  soul  that  had  lain  dead  for  months  and  years, 
and  yet  is  at  last  quickened  by  the  same  almighty  power 
with  a  divine  and  immortal  life. 

Should  I  exemplify  it  by  a  particular  instance,  I  might 
fix  upon  this  or  that  person  in  this  assembly,  and  remind 
you,  and  inform  others,  of  the  process  of  this  work  in 
your  souls.  And  O  !  how  happy  are  such  of  you,  that 
you  may  be  produced  as  instances  in  this  case  ! 

You  lay  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty  years,  or  more,  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  ;  you  did  not  breathe  and  pant  like  a 
living  soul  after  God  and  holiness ;  you  had  little  more 
sense  of  the  burden  of  sin  than  a  corpse  of  the  pressure 
of  a  mountain ;  you  had  no  appetite  for  the  living  bread 
that  came  down  from  heaven ;  the  vital  pulse  of  sacred 
passions  did  not  beat  in  your  hearts  towards  God  and 
divine  things,  but  you  lay  putrefying  in  sin ,  filthy  lusts 
preyed  upon  you  like  worms  on  the  bodies  of  the  dead ; 
you  spread  the  contagion  of  sin  around  you  by  your 
conversation  and  example,  like  the  stench  and  corrupt 
effluvia  of  a  rotten  carcass  ;  you  were  odious  and  abomi- 
nable to  God,  fit  to  be  shut  up  in  the  infernal  pit,  out  of 
his  sight :  and  you  were  objects  of  horror  and  lamenta- 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  101 

tion  to  all  that  knew  and  daily  considered  your  case, 
your  deplorable  case.  During  this  time  many  quicken- 
ing applications  were  made  to  you  ;  you  had  friends  that 
used  all  means  to  bring  you  to  life  again ;  but  alas !  all 
in  vain ;  conscience  proved  your  friend,  and  pierced 
and  chafed  you,  to  bring  you  to  some  feeling,  but  you 
remained  still  senseless,  or  the  symptoms  of  life  soon 
vanished.  God  did  not  cast  you  away  as  irrecoverably 
dead,  but  stirred  and  agitated  you  within,  and  struggled 
long  with  the  principles  of  death  to  subdue  them :  and 
if  it  was  your  happy  lot  to  live  under  a  faithful  ministry, 
the  living  oracles  that  contain  the  seeds  of  the  divine  life 
were  applied  to  you  with  care  and  solicitude.  The  ter- 
rors of  the  Lord  were  thundered  in  your  ears  to  awaken 
you.  The  experiment  of  a  Savior's  dying  love,  and  the 
rich  grace  of  the  gospel,  vrere  repeatedly  tried  upon 
you :  novv'  you  were  carried  within  hearing  of  the  hea- 
venly music,  and  within  sight  of  the  glories  of  Paradise, 
to  try  if  these  would  charm  you  ;  now  you  were,  as  it 
were,  held  over  the  flames  of  hell,  that  they  might  by 
their  pungent  pains  scorch  and  startle  you  into  life. 
Providence  also  concurred  with  these  applications,  and 
tried  to  recover  you  by  mercies  and  judgments,  sickness 
and  health,  losses  and  possessions,  disappointments  and 
successes,  threatenings  and  deliverances.  If  it  was 
your  unhappy  lot  to  lie  among  dead  souls  like  yourself, 
you  had  indeed  but  little  pity  from  them,  nay,  they  and 
Satan  were  plying  you  with  their  opiates  and  poison  to 
confirm  the  deadly  sleep.  And  O  !  how  astonishing  is  it 
that  you  should  be  quickened  in  a  charnel-house,  in  the 
mansions  of  the  dead,  with  dead  souls  lying  all  around 
you!  But  if  it  was  your  happiness  to  be  in  the  soci- 
ety of  the  living,  they  pitied  you,  they  stirred  and  agi- 
tated you  with  their  warnings  and  persuasions,  they,  like 
Martha  and  Mary  in  behalf  of  their  deceased  brother, 
v.-ent  to  Jesus  with  their  cries  and  importunities,  "  Lord, 
my  child,  my  parent,  my  servant,  my  neighbor  is  dead, 
O  come  and  restore  him  to  life  !  Lord,  if  thou  hadst 
been  here,  he  would  not  have  died ;  but  even  now  I 
know  it  is  not  too  late  for  thee  to  raise  him."  Thus, 
when  one  is  dead  in  our  heavenly  Father's  family,  the 
whole  house  should  be  alarmed,  and  all  the  domes- 
tics be  busy  in  trying  to  bring  him  to  life  again.  But, 
9* 


102  THE    NATURE    AND    PROCESS 

0  !  reflect  with  shame  and  sorrow  how  long  all  these 
quickening  applications  were  in  vain  ;  you  still  lay  in  a 
dead  sleep,  or,  if  at  times  you  seemed  to  move,  and  gave 
us  hopes  you  were  coming  to  life  again,  you  soon  re- 
lapsed, and  grew  as  senseless  as  ever.  And  alas !  are 
there  not  some  of  you  in  this  condition  to  this  very  mo- 
ment 1  O  deplorable  sight !  May  the  hour  come,  and  O 
that  this  may  be  the  hour,  in  which  such  dead  souls  shall 
Ilea?-  the  voice  of  the  So?i  of  God,  and  live.     John  v.  25. 

But  as  to  such  of  you  in  whom  I  Vv^ould  exemplify  this 
history  of  a  spiritual  resurrection,  when  your  case  wa&^ 
thus  deplorable,  and  seemingly  helpless,  the  happy  hour, 
the  time  of  love  came,  when  you  must  live.  When  all 
these  applications  had  been  unsuccessful,  the  all-quick- 
ening spirit  of  God  had  determined  to  exert  more  of  his 
energy,  and  work  more  eflectually  upon  you.  Perhaps 
a  verse  in  your  Bible,  a  sentence  in  a  sermon,  an  alarm- 
ing Providence,  the  conversation  of  a  pious  friend,  or 
something  that  unexpectedly  occurred  to  yovir  own 
thoughts,  first  struck  your  minds  with  unusual  force ; 
you  found  you  could  not  harden  yourselves  against  it  as 
you  Avere  wont  to  do  ;  it  was  attended  with  a  power  you 
never  before  had  felt,  and  which  you  could  not  resist: 
this  made  you  thoughtful  and  pensive,  and  turned  your 
minds  to  objects  that  you  were  wont  to  neglect ;  this 
made  you  stand  and  pause,  and  think  of  the  state  of 
your  neglected  souls  ;  you  began  to  fear  matters  were 
wrong  with  you  ;  "  What  will  become  of  me  when  1 
leave  this  world  (  Where  shall  I  reside  for  ever  ?  Am  I 
prepared  for  the  eternal  world  \  How  have  I  spent  my 
life  ("  These,  and  the  like  inquiries  put  you  to  a  stand, 
and  you  could  not  pass  over  them  so  superficially  as  you 
were  wont  to  do ;  your  sins  now  appeared  to  you  in  a 
new  light ;  you  were  shocked  and  surprised  at  their  ma- 
lignant nature,  their  number,  their  aggravations,  and 
their  dreadful  consequences.  The  great  God,  Avhom  you 
were  wont  to  neglect,  appeared  to  you  as  a  Being  that 
demanded  your  regard  ;  you  saw  he  was  indeed  a  vene- 
rable, awful,  majestic  Being,  with  whom  you  had  the 
most  important  concern:  in  short,  you  saw  that  such  a 
life  as  you  had  led  would  never  bring  you  to  heaven: 
you  saw  you  must  make  religion  more  your  business 
than  you  had  ever  done,  and  hereupon  you  altered  your 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  103 

former  course  :  you  broke  off  from  several  of  your  vices, 
you  deserted  your  extravagant  company,  and  you  began 
to  frequent  the  throne  of  grace,  to  study  religion,  and 
to  attend  upon  its  institutions ;  and  this  you  did  with 
some  degree  of  earnestness  and  solicitude. 

When  you  were  thus  reformed,  you  began  to  flatter 
yourselves  that  you  had  escaped  out  of  your  dangerous 
condition,  and  secured  the  divine  favor  :  now  you  began 
to   view  yourselves  Avith    secret    self-applause    as  true 
Christians  ;  but  all  this  time  the  reformation  was  only 
outward,   and  there  was   no  new  principle  of   a  divine 
supernatural  life  implanted  in  your  hearts  :  you  had  not 
the  generous  passions  and  sensations  of  living  souls  to- 
wards God,  but  acted  entirely  from  natural,  selfish  prin- 
ciples :  you  had  no   clear  heart-affecting  views  of  the 
intrinsic  evil,  and  odious  nature  of  sin,  considered  in  it- 
self, nor  of  the  entire  universal  corruption  of  your  na- 
ture, and  the  necessity  not  only  of  adorning  your  outer 
man  by  an  external  reformation,  but  of  an  inward  change 
of  heart  by  the  almighty  power  of  God :  you  were  not 
deeply  sensible  of  the  extent  and  spirituality  of  the  di- 
vine law,  nor  of  the  infinite  purity  and  inexorable  justice 
of  the  Deity  :  you  had  no  love  for  religion  and  virtue  for 
their  own  sakes,but  only  on  account  of  their  happy  con- 
sequences.    Indeed  your  love  of  novelty  and  a  regard  to 
your  own  happiness  might  so  work  upon  you,  for  a  time, 
that  you  might  have  very  raised  and  delightful  passions 
in  religious  duties;  but  all  your  religion  at  that  time 
was  a  mere  system  of  selfishness,  and  you  had  no  gene- 
rous disinterested  delight  in  holiness  for  its  own  excel- 
lency, nor  did  you  heartily  relish  the  strictness  of  pure, 
living  religion :  you  were  also  under  the  government  of 
a  self-righteous  spirit :  your  own  good  works  were  the 
ground  'of  your  hopes,  and  you  had  no  relish  for   the 
mortifying  doctrine  of  salvation  through  the  mere  mercy 
of  God  and  the  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ :   though 
your  education  taught  you  to  acknowledge  Christ  /is  the 
only  Savior,  and  ascribe  all  your  hopes  to  his  death,  yet 
in  reality  he  was  of  very  little   importance  in  your  reli- 
gion ;  he  had  but  little  place  in  your  heart  and  affections, 
even  when  you  urged  his  name  as  your  only  plea  at  the 
throne  of  grace  :  in  short,  you  had  not  the  spirit  of  the 
gospel,  nor  any  spiritual  life  within  you.     And  tl.i^  -sail 


104  THE    NATURE    AND    PROCESS 

the  religion  with  which  multitudes  are  cojitented  .  with 
this  they  obtain  a  name  that  they  live ;  but  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  in  reality,  they  are  dead  j  and  had  you  been 
suffered  to  rest  here,  according  to  your  own  desire,  you 
would  have  been  dead  still. 

But  God,  who  is  rich  (O  how  inconceivably  rich !)  in 
mercy,  for  the  great  love  wherew^ith  he  loved  you,  re- 
solved to  carry  on  his  work  in  you  ;  and  therefore,  while 
you  were  flattering  yourselves,  and  elated  w^ith  a  proud 
conceit  of  a  happy  change  in  your  condition,  he  sur- 
prised you  with  a  very  different  view  of  your  case ;  he 
opened  your  eyes  farther,  and  then  you  saw,  you  felt 
those  things  of  which,  till  then,  you  had  but  little  sense 
or  apprehension ;  such  as  the  corruption  of  your  hearts, 
the  awful  strictness  of  the  divine  law,  your  utter  inability 
to  yield  perfect  obedience,  and  the  necessity  of  an  inward 
change  of  the  inclinations  and  relishes  of  your  soul. 
These,  and  a  great  many  other  things  of  a  like  nature, 
broke  in  upon  your  minds  with  striking  evidence  and  a 
kind  of  almighty  energy  ;  and  now  you  saw  you  were 
still  "  dead  in  sin,"  weak,  indisposed,  averse  towards 
spiritual  things,  and  "dead  in  law,"  condemned  to  ever- 
lasting death  and  misery  by  its  righteous  sentence :  now 
you  set  about  the  duties  of  religion  with  more  earnest- 
ness than  ever  ;  now"  you  prayed,  you  heard,  and  used 
the  other  means  of  grace  as  for  your  life,  for  you  saw 
that  your  eternal  life  w^as  indeed  at  stake;  and  now, 
when  you  put  the  matter  to  a  thorough  trial,  you  were 
more  sensible  than  ever  of  your  ow^n  weakness,  and  the 
difficulties  in  your  way.  "  0  !  who  would  have  thought 
my  heart  had  been  so  depraved  that  it  should  thus  fly  off 
from  God,  and  struggle,  and  reluctate  against  returning 
to  him  \  "  Such  was  then  your  language.  Alas !  you 
found  yourselves  quite  helpless,  and  all  your  efforts  fee- 
ble and  ineffectual :  then  you  perceived  yourselves  real- 
ly dead  in  sin,  and  that  you  must  continue  so  to  all  eter- 
nity, unless  quickened  by  a  power  infinitely  superior  to 
your  own :  not  that  you  lay  slothful  and  inactive  at  this 
time  ;  no,  never  did  you  exert  yourselves  so  vigorously 
in  all  your  life,  never  did  you  besiege  the  throne  of  grace 
with  such  earnest  importunity,  never  did  you  hear  and 
read  with  such  eager  attention,  or  make  such  a  vigorous 
resistance  against  sin  and  temptation:  all  your  natural 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  105 

powers  were  exerted  to  the  higliest  pitch,  for  now  you 
saw  your  case  required  it :  but  you  found  all  your  most 
vigorous  endeavors  insufficient,  and  you  were  sensible 
that,  without  the  assistance  of  a  superior  power,  the 
work  of  religion  could  never  be  eflected. 

Now  you  were  reduced  very  low  indeed.  While  you 
imagined  you  could  render  yourselves  safe  by  a  reform- 
ation in  your  own  power,  you  were  not  much  alarmed  at 
your  condition,  though  you  saw  it  bad.  But  O  !  to  feel 
yourseh^es  dead  in  sin,  and  that  you  cannot  help  your- 
selves ;  to  see  yourselves  in  a  state  of  condemnation, 
liable  to  execution  everj^  moment,  and  yet  to  find  all 
your  own  endeavors  utterly  insufficient  to  relieve  you  ; 
to  be  obliged,  after  all  you  had  done,  to  lie  at  mercy, 
and  confess  that  you  were  as  deservinof  of  everlasting- 
punishment  as  ever  the  most  notorious  criminal  was  of 
the  stroke  of  public  justice  ;  this  was  a  state  of  extreme 
dejection,  terror,  and  anxiety  indeed.  The  proud,  self- 
confident  creature  was  never  thoroughly  mortified  and 
humbled  till  now,  Avhen  he  is  slain  by  the  law,  and  en- 
tirely cut  off  from  all  hopes  from  himself. 

And  now,  finding  you  could  not  save  yourselves,  you 
began  to  cast  about  you,  and  look  out  for  another  to  save 
you :  now  you  were  more  sensible  than  ever  of  the  ab- 
solute need  of  Jesus  5  and  you  cried  and  reached  after 
him,  and  stirred  up  yourselves  to  take  hold  of  him.  The 
gospel  brought  the  free  ofier  of  him  to  your  ears,  and 
you  would  fain  have  accepted  of  him  ;  but  here  new  dif- 
ficulties arose.  Alas  !  you  did  not  think  yourselves  good 
enough  to  accept  of  him,  and  hence  you  took  a  great 
deal  of  fruitless  pains  to  make  yourselves  better :  you 
also  found  your  hearts  strangely  averse  to  the  gospel- 
method  of  salvation,  and,  though  a  sense  of  your  neces- 
sity made  you  try  to  work  up  yourselves  to  an  approba- 
tion of  it,  yet  you  could  not  affectionately  acquiesce  in 
*t,  and  cordially  relish  it. 

And  now,  how  melancholy  was  your  situation !  You 
were  "  shut  up  to  the  faith  ; "  Gal.  iii.  23  ;  there  was  no 
other  possible  way  of  escape,  and  yet,  ala« !  you  could 
not  take  this  way :  now  you  were  ready  to  cry,  "  I  am 
cut  ofi';  my  strength  and  my  hope  are  perished  from 
the  Lord ;  "  but,  blessed  be  God,  he  did  not  leave  you 
in   this   condition.      Man's    extremity    of    distress    is 


106  THE  NATURE  AND  PROCESS 

God's  opportunity  for  relief  and  salvation  ;  and  so  you 
found  it. 

Now  the  process  of  preparatory  operations  is  just 
come  to  a  result.  Now  it  is  time  for  God  to  work,  for 
nature  has  done  her  utmost,  and  has  been  found  utterly 
insufficient ;  now  it  is  proper  a  divine  supernatural  prin- 
ciple should  be  infused,  for  all  the  principles  of  nature 
have  failed,  and  the  proud  sinner  is  obliged  to  own  it, 
and  stand  still,  and  see  the  salvation  of  God.  In  this 
situation  you  wanted  nothing  but  such  a  divine  principle 
to  make  you  living  Christians  indeed.  These  prepara- 
tives were  like  the  taking  away  the  stone  from  the  se- 
pulchre of  Lazarus,  which  was  a  prelude  of  that  almighty 
voice  which  called  him  from  the  dead.  Noav  you  ap- 
pear to  me  like  the  dry  bones  in  Ezekiel's  vision  in  one 
stage  of  the  operation.  After  there  had  been  a  noise, 
and  a  shaking  among  them,  and  the  bones  had  come  to- 
gether, bone  to  his  bone  ;  I  beheld^  says  he,  and  lo,  the 
sinews  and  the  flesh  came  up  upon  them,  and  the  skin  cov- 
ered them  above  ;  but  there  was  no  breath  in  them  ;  Ezek. 
xxxvii.  8 ;  this  was  all  that  was  wanting  to  make  them 
living  men.  In  like  manner  you,  at  this  time,  had  the 
external  appearance  of  Christians,  but  you  had  no  divine 
supernatural  life  in  you  ;  you  v/ere  but  the  fair  carcasses 
of  Christians  ;  your  religion  had  a  body  completely  form- 
ed, but  it  had  no  soul  in  it ;  and,  had  the  holy  Spirit  now 
given  over  his  work,  you  would  have  continued  dead  still. 

But  now  the  important  crisis  is  come,  when  he  who 
stood  over  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  and  pronounced  the 
life-restoring  mandate,  Lazarus^  come  forth  I  when  he 
who  breathed  into  Adam  the  breath  of  life,  and  made 
him  a  living  soul ;  I  say,  noAv  the  crisis  is  come,  when 
he  will  implant  the  principles  of  life  in  your  souls ;  sud- 
denly you  feel  the  amazing  change,  and  find  you  are  act- 
ing from  principles  entirely  new  to  you  ;  for  now  your 
hearts  that  were  wont  to  reluctate,  and  start  back  from 
God,  rise  to  him  with  the  strongest  aspirations  :  now 
the  way  of  salvation  through  Christ,  which  you  could 
never  relish- before,  appears  all  amiable  and  glorious,  and 
captivates  your  whole  souls.  Holiness  has  lovely  and 
powerful  charms,  which  captivate  you  to  the  most  wil 
ling  obedience,  notwithstanding  your  former  disgust  t 
it  J  and,  though  once  you   were  enamored  with  sin, 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  107 

disliked  it  only  because  you  could  not  indulge  it  with 
impunity,  it  now  appears  to  you  a  mere  mass  of  corrup- 
tion and  deformity,  an  abominable  thing,  which  you  hate 
above  all  other  things  on  earth  or  in  hell.  At  this  junc- 
ture you  were  animated  with  a  new  life  in  every  faculty 
of  your  souls,  and  hereupon  you  felt  the  instincts,  the 
appetites,  the  sympathies  and  antipathies  of  a  new  life,  a 
divine  life,  justly  styled  by  the  apostle  the  life  of  God  ; 
the  life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man.  The  pulse  of  sacred 
passions  began  to  beat  towards  spiritual  objects  ;  the 
vital  warmth  of  love  spread  itself  through  your  whole 
frame  ;  you  breathed  out  your  desires  and  prayers  be- 
fore God  ;  like  a  new-born  infant  you  began  to  cry  after 
him,  and  at  times  you  have  learned  to  lisp  his  name  with 
filial  endearment,  and  cry  Mba  Father  ;  you  hungered 
and  thirsted  after  righteousness,  and  as  every  kind  of 
life  must  have  its  proper  nourishment,  so  your  spiritual 
life  fed  upon  Christ,  the  living  bread,  and  the  sincere 
milk  of  his  word.  You  also  felt  a  new  set  of  sensations  ; 
divine  things  now  made  deep  and  tender  impressions 
upon  you  ;  the  great  realities  of  religion  and  eternity 
now  affected  you  in  a  manner  unknown  before ;  you 
likewise  found  your  souls  actuated  with  life  and  vigor 
in  the  service  of  God,  and  in  the  duties  you  owed  to 
mankind.  This  strange  alteration  no  doubt  filled  you 
with  surprise  and  amazement,  something  like  that  of 
Adam  when  he  found  himself  start  into  life  out  of  his 
eternal  non-existence.  With  these  new  sensations 
everything  appeared  to  you  in  a  quite  different  light,  and 
you  coulif  not  but  wonder  that  you  had  never  perceived 
them  in  that  manner  before. 

Thus,  my  dear  brethren,  when  you  were  even  dead  in 
sin,  God  quickened  you  together  with  Christ.  It  is  true, 
the  principle  of  life  might  be  very  weak  at  first,  like  the 
life  of  a  new-born  infant,  or  a  foetus  just  animated  in  the 
womb  ;  nay,  it  may  be  but  very  weak  still,  and  at  times 
may  languish,  and  seem  just  expiring  in  the  agonies  of 
death  ;  but,  blessed  be  the  quickening  Spirit  of  Christ, 
since  the  happy  hour  of  your  resurrection  you  have  ne- 
ver been,  and  you  never  will  be  to  all  eternity,  what  you 
once  were,  "dead  in  trespasses  and  sins."  Should  I 
give  you  your  own  history  since  that  time,  it  would  be 
to  this  purpose,  and  you  will  discern  many  symptoms  of 


108  THE    NATUE£    AND    PROCESS 

life  in  it.  You  have  often  known  what  sickness  of  soul 
is,  as  well  as  of  body  ;  and  sometimes  it  has  risen  to  such 
a  height  as  to  endanger  your  spiritual  life  The  seeds  of 
sin,  that  still  lurk  in  your  constitution,  like  the  principles 
of  death,  or  a  deadly  poison  circulating  through  your 
veins,  have  often  struggled  for  the  mastery,  and  cast  you 
into  languishing  or  violent  disorders  j  then  was  the 
divine  life  oppressed,  and  you  could  not  freely  draw  the 
breath  of  prayer  and  pious  desires  ;  you  lost  the  appetite 
for  the  word  of  God,  and  what  you  received  did  not  di- 
gest well  and  turn  to  kindly  nourishment ;  the  pulse  of 
sacred  passions  beat  faint  and  irregular,  the  vital  heat 
decayed,  and  you  felt  a  death-like  cold  creeping  upon 
you  and  benumbing  you.  Sometimes  you  have  been 
afflicted,  perhaps,  with  convulsions  of  violent  and  out- 
rageous passions,  with  the  dropsy  of  insatiable  desires 
after  things  below,  with  the  lethargy  of  carnal  security, 
or  the  fever  of  lust :  at  other  times  you  have  felt  an 
universal  disorder  through  your  whole  frame,  and  you 
hardly  knew  what  ailed  you,  only  you  were  sure  your 
souls  were  not  well ;  but  perhaps  your  most  common 
disorder  that  seizes  j^ou  is  a  kind  of  consumption,  a 
lowness  of  spirits,  a  languor  and  weakness,  the  want  of 
appetite  for  your  spiritual  food,  or  perhaps  a  nausea  and 
disgust  towards  it  ;  you  also  live  in  a  country  very  un- 
wholesome to  living  souls  ;  you  dwell  among  the  dead, 
and  catch  contagion  from  the  conversation  of  those 
around  you,  and  this  heightens  the  disorder :  and  fur- 
ther, that  old  serpent  the  devil  labors  to  infect  you  with 
his  deadly  poison,  and  increase  the  peccant  humors  by  his 
temptations  :  at  such  times  you  can  hardly  feel  any 
workings  of  spiritual  life  in  you,  and  you  fear  you  are 
entirely  dead  ;  but  examine  strictly,  and  you  will  disco- 
ver some  vital  symptoms  even  in  this  bad  habit  of  soul; 
for  does  not  your  new  nature  exert  itself  to  work  off  the 
disorder  1  Are  not  your  spirits  in  a  ferment,  and  do  you 
not  feel  yourselves  in  exquisite  pain,  or  at  least  greatly 
uneasy  1  Give  all  the  world  to  a  sick  man,  and  he  des- 
pises it  all :  "  O  give  me  my  health,"  says  he,  "  or  you 
give  me  nothing."  So  it  is  with  you  ;  nothing  can  con- 
tent you  while  your  souls  are  thus  out  of  order.  Do  you 
not  long  for  their  recovery,  that  you  may  go  about  your 
business  again  ;  I  mean  that  you  may  engage  in  the  ser- 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  109 

vice  of  God  with  all  the  vigor  of  health  1  and  do  you  not 
apply  to  Christ  as  your  only  physician  in  this  condition  1 
And  0  !  what  an  healing  balm  is  his  blood  !  what  a  reviv- 
ing cordial  is  his  love  !  and  how  kindly  does  his  Spirit 
purge  off  the  corrupt  humors,  and  subdue  the  principles 
of  sin  and  death !  Has  not  experience  taught  you  the 
meaning  of  the  apostle,  when  he  says,  Christ  is  our  life  : 
and  /  live,  yet  not  /,  hut  Christ  liveth  in  me,  Gal.  ii.  20. 
Do  you  not  perceive  that  Christ  is  your  vital  head,  and 
that  you  revive  or  languish  just  as  he  communicates  or 
withholds  his  influence  %  And  have  you  not  been  taught 
in  the  same  way  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  expression 
so  often  repeated.  The  just  shall  live  by  faith  ?  Hab.  ii.  4. 
Do  you  not  find  that  faith  is,  as  it  were,  the  grand  artery 
by  which  you  derive  life  from  Christ,  and  by  which  it  is 
circulated  through  your  whole  frame  ;  and  that  when 
faith  languishes,  then  you  weaken,  pine  away,  and  per- 
haps fall  into  a  swoon,  as  though  you  were  quite  dead  % 
Are  you  not  careful  of  the  health  of  your  souls  1  You 
endeavor  to  keep  them  warm  with  the  love  of  God  :  you 
shun  those  sickly  regions  as  far  as  you  can,  where  the 
example  and  conversation  of  the  wicked  spread  their 
deadly  infection,  and  you  love  to  dwell  among  living 
souls,  and  breathe  in  their  wholesome  air.  Upon  the 
whole,  it  is  evident,  notwithstanding  your  frequent  in- 
dispositions, you  have  some  life  within  you  :  life  takes 
occasion  to  show  itself  even  from  your  disorders.  It  is 
a  plain  symptom  of  it,  that  you  have  something  within 
you  that  makes  such  a  vigorous  resistance  against  the 
principles  of  sin  and  death,  and  throws  your  whole  frame 
into  a  ferment,  till  it  has  wrought  off  the  distemper.  In 
short,  you  have  the  sensations,  the  sympathies  and  an- 
tipathies, the  pleasuren  and  pains  of  living  souls. 

And  is  it  so  indeed  1  Then  from  this  moment  begin 
to  rejoice  and  bless  the  Lord,  who  raised  you  to  spiritual 
life.  O  let  the  hearts  he  has  quickened  beat  with  his 
love  ;  let  the  lips  he  has  opened,  when  quivering  in 
death,  speak  his  praise,  and  devote  that  life  to  him 
which  he  has  given  you,  and  which  he  still  supports  ! 

Consider  what  a  divine  and  noble  kind  of  life  he  has 

given  you.     It  is  a  capacity   and  aptitude  for  the  most 

exalted  and  divine  services  and  enjoyments.     Now  you 

have  a  relish  for  the  Supreme  Good  as  your  happiness, 

10 


110  THE  NATURE  AND  PROCESS 

the  only  proper  food  for  your  immortal  souls,  and  he 
will  not  suffer  you  to  hunger  and  thirst  in  vain,  but  will 
satisfy  the  appetites  he  has  implanted  in  your  nature. 
You  have  some  spirit  and  life  in  his  service,  and  are  not 
like  the  dead  souls  around  you,  tha+  are  all  alive  towards 
other  objects,  but  absolutely  dead  towards  him  :  you 
have  also  noble  and  exalted  sensations  ;  you  are  capable 
of  a  set  of  pleasures  of  a  more  refined  and  sublime  nature 
than  what  are  relished  by  groveling  sinners.  From  your 
inmost  souls  you  detest  and  nauseate  whatever  is  mean, 
base,  and  abominable,  and  you  can  feast  on  what  is  pure, 
amiable,  excellent,  and  worthy  of  your  love.  Your 
vitiated  taste  for  trash  and  poison  is  cured,  and  you  feed 
upon  heavenly  bread,  upon  food  agreeable  to  the  consti- 
tution of  your  spiritual  nature  j  and  hence  you  may  in- 
fer your  meetness  for  the  heavenly  world,  that  region  of 
perfect  vitality.  You  have  a  disposition  for  its  enjoy- 
ments and  services,  and  this  is  the  grand  preparative 
God  will  not  encumber  the  heaven  of  his  glory  with  dead 
souls,  nor  infect  the  pure  salubrious  air  of  paradise  with 
the  poison  of  their  corruption  :  but  the  everlasting  doors 
are  always  open  for  living  souls,  and  not  one  of  them 
shall  ever  be  excluded  ;  nay,  the  life  of  heaven  is  already 
within  you  j  the  life  that  reigns  with  immortal  health 
and  vigor  above,  is  the  very  same  with  that  which 
works  m  your  breasts  ;  only  there  it  is  arrived  to  ma- 
turity and  perfection,  and  here  it  is  in  its  rudiments  and 
weakness.  Your  animal  life,  wdiich  was  hardly  perceiv- 
able in  the  womb,  was  the  very  same  with  that  which 
now  possesses  you,  only  now  it  is  come  to  perfection. 
Thus  you  are  now  angels  in  embryo,  the  fcEtus  (might  I 
be  allowed  the  expression)  of  glorified  immortals  j  and 
when  you  are  born  out  of  the  womb  of  time  into  the 
eternal  world,  this  feeble  spark  of  spiritual  life  will 
kindle  and  blaze,  and  render  you  as  active  and  vigorous 
as  "  the  rapt  seraph  that  adores  and  burns."  Then  you 
will  fear  no  more  weakness,  no  more  languors,  no  more 
qualms  of  indisposition  ;  the  poison  of  temptation,  and 
the  contagion  of  bad  example  cannot  reach  you  there  ; 
and  the  inward  seeds  of  sickness  and  death  will  be  purged 
entirely  out  of  your  soul :  you  will  be  got  quite  out  of 
the  sickly  country,  and  breathe  a  pure  reviving  air,  the 
natural  element  of  your  souls.     There  you  will  find  the 


OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE.  Ill 

fountain,  yea,  whole  rivers  of  the  waters  of  life,  of 
which  you  will  drink  in  large  draughts  for  ever  and 
ever,  and  which  will  inspire  yon  with  immortal  life  and 
vigor.  O  how  happy  are  you  in  this  single  gift  of  spi- 
ritual life  !  this  is  a  life  that  cannot  perish,  even  in  the 
ruins  of  the  world.  What  though  you  must  ere  long 
yield  your  mortal  bodies  and  animal  life  to  death  and 
rottenness  1  your  most  important  life  is  immortal,  and 
subject  to  no  such  dissolution  :  and  therefore  be  coura- 
geous in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  bid  defiance  to  all 
the  calamities  of  life,  and  all  the  terrors  of  death  ;  for 
your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God ;  and  when  Christy 
who  is  your  life^  shall  appear^  then  shall  you  also  appear 
with  him  in  glory.     Col.  iii.  3,  4. 

I  w^ould  willingly  go  on  in  this  strain,  and  leave  the 
pulpit  with  a  relish  of  these  delightful  truths  upon  my 
spirit ;  but,  alas  !  I  must  turn  my  address  to  another  set 
of  persons  in  this  assembly  ;  but  "  where  is  the  Lord 
God  of  Elijah,"  who  restored  the  Shunamite's  son  to 
life  by  means  of  that  prophet  \  I  am  going  to  call  to  the 
dead,  and  I  know  they  will  not  hear,  unless  he  attend 
my  feeble  voice  with  his  almighty  power.  I  would  pray 
over  you  like  Elijah  over  the  dead  child,  0  Lord  God,  let 
this  sinner'' s  life  come  into  him  again.  1  Kings  xvii.  21. 
Are  not  the  living  and  the  dead  promiscuously  blended 
in  this  assembly  \  Here  is  a  dead  soul,  there  another, 
and  there  another  all  over  the  house  ;  and  here  and 
there  a  few  living  souls  thinly  scattered  among  them. 
Have  you  ever  been  carried  through  such  a  preparatory 
process  as  I  have  described  \  or  if  you  are  uncertain 
about  this,  as  some  may  be  who  are  animated  with 
spiritual  life,  inquire,  have  you  the  feelings,  the  appe- 
tites and  aversions,  the  pleasing  and  the  painful  sensa- 
tions of  living  souls  1  Methinks  conscience  breaks  its 
silence  in  some  of  you,  whether  you  will  or  not,  and 
cries,  "  0  no  :  there  is  not  a  spark  of  life  in  this  breas\." 

Well,  my  poor  deceased  friends,  (for  so  I  may  call 
you)  I  hope  you  will  seriously  attend  to  what  I  am 
going  seriously  to  say  to  you.  I  have  no  bad  design 
upon  you,  but  only  to  restore  you  to  life.  And  though 
your  case  is  really  discouraging,  yet  I  hope  it  is  not 
quite  desperate.  The  principles  of  nature,  reason,  self- 
love,  joy,  and  fear,  are  still  alive  in  you,  and  you  are  ca- 


112  NATURE    AND    PROCE^S    OF    SPIRITUAL    LIFE. 

pable  of  some  application  to  divine  tilings.  And,  as  1 
told  you,  it  is  upon  the  principles  of  nature  that  God  is 
wont  to  work,  to  prepare  the  soul  for  the  infusion  of  a 
supernatural  life.  And  these  I  would  now  work  upon, 
in  hopes  you  are  not  proof  against  considerations  of  the 
greatest  weight  and  energy  ;  I  earnestly  beg  you  would 
lay  to  heart  such  things  as  these. 

Can  you  content  yourselves  with  an  animal  life,  the 
life  of  beasts,  with  that  superfluity,  reason,  just  to  ren- 
der you  a  more  ingenious  and  self-tormenting  kind  of 
brutes ;  more  artful  in  gratifying  your  sordid  appetites, 
and  yet  still  uneasy  for  want  of  an  unknown  something  ; 
a  care  that  the  brutal  world,  being  destitute  of  reason, 
are  unmolested  with  1  O!  have  you  no  ambition  to  be 
animated  with  a  divine  immortal  life,  the  life  of  God  1 

Can  you  be  contented  with  a  mere  temporal  life,  when 
your  souls  must  exist  for  ever  1  That  infinite  world  be- 
yond the  grave  is  replenished  with  nothing  but  the  ter- 
rors of  death  to  you,  if  you  are  destitute  of  spiritual 
life.  And  O !  can  you  bear  the  thought  of  residing 
among  its  grim  and  ghastly  terrors  for  ever  1 

Are  you  contented  to  be  cut  off  from  God,  as  a  mor- 
tified member  from  the  body,  and  to  be  banished  for 
ever  from  all  the  joys  of  his  presence  ]  You  cannot  be 
admitted  to  heaven  without  spiritual  life.  Hell  is  the 
sepulchre  for  dead  souls,  and  thither  you  must  be  sent, 
if  you  still  continue  dead.  And  does  not  this  thought 
affect  you  l 

Consider,  also,  now  is  the  only  time  in  which  you  can 
be  restored  to  life.  And  0  !  will  you  let  it  pass  by 
without  improvement  1 

Shall  all  the  means  that  have  been  used  for  your  revi- 
val be  in  vain  1  Or  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit,  the 
alarms  of  your  own  consciences,  the  blessings  and  chas- 
tisements of  Providence,  the  persuasions,  tears,  and  la- 
mentations of  your  living  friends  ;  O  !  shall  all  these  be 
in  vain  1  Can  you  bear  the  thouorht  1  Surely,  no.  There- 
lore,  0  heave  and  struggle  to  burst  the  chains  of  death  ! 
Cry  mightily  to  God  to  quicken  you.  Use  all  the  means 
of  vivification,  and  avoid  every  deadly  and  contagious 
thing. 

I  know  not,  my  brethren,  how  this  thought  will  affect 
ua  at  parting  to-day,  that  we  have  left  behind  us  many  a 


CONTRITE  SPIRITS  THE  OBJECTS  OF  DIVINE  FAVOR.         113 

dead  soul.  But  suppose  we  should  leave  as  many  bod- 
ies here  behind  us  as  there  are  dead  souls  among  us  ; 
suppose  every  sinner  destitute  of  spiritual  life  should 
now  be  struck  dead  before  us,  0  how  would  this  floor 
be  overlaid  with  dead  corpses  !  How  few  of  us  would 
escape  !  What  bitter  lamentations  and  tears  would  be 
among  us  !  One  would  lose  a  husband  or  a  wife,  anoth- 
er a  friend  or  a  neighbor.  And  have  we  hearts  to  mourn, 
and  tears  to  shed  over  such  an  event  as  this,  and  have 
we  no  compassion  for  dead  souls  %  Is  there  none  to 
mourn  over  them  1  Sinners,  if  you  will  still  continue 
dead,  there  are  some  here  to-day  who  part  w^ith  you 
with  this  wish,  0  that  my  head  were  waters^  and  mine  eyes 
fountains  of  tears ^  that  I  might  weep  day  and  ?iight  for  the 
slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  people.  And  O  that  our 
mournings  may  reach  the  Lord  of  life,  and  that  you 
might  be  quickened  from  your  death  in  trespasses  and 
sins  !     Amen  and  Amen. 


SERMON  VI. 

POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPIRITS    THE     OBJECTS    OF     THE     DIVINE 

FAVOR. 

IsAiAH  Ixvi.  2. — To  this  man  will  I  look  ;  even  to  him  that 
is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  spirit^  and  trembleth  at  my 
word. 

As  we  consist  of  animal  bodies  as  well  as  immortal 
souls,  and  are  endowed  with  corporeal  senses  as  well  as 
rational  powers,  God,  who  has  wisely  adapted  our  reli- 
gion to  our  make,  requires  bodily  as  well  as  spiritual 
worship  ;  and  commands  us  not  only  to  exercise  the  in- 
ward powers  of  our  minds  in  proper  acts  of  devotion, 
but  also  to  express  our  inward  devotion  by  suitable  ex- 
ternal actions,  and  to  attend  upon  him  in  the  sensible 
outward  ordinances  which  he  has  appointed.  Thus  it  is 
10* 


]  14  POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPTEITS 

under  the  gospel ;  but  it  was  more  remarkably  so  under 
the  law,  which,  compared  with  the  pure  and  spiritual 
worship  of  the  gospel,  was  a  system  of  carnal  ordinan- 
ces, and  required  a  great  deal  of  external  pomp  and 
grandeur,  and  bodily  services.  Thus  a  costly  and  mag- 
nificent structure  was  erected,  by  divine  direction,  in 
the  wilderness,  called  the  tabernacle,  because  built  in 
the  form  of  a  tent,  and  moveable  from  place  to  place  ; 
and  afterwards  a  most  stately  temple  w^as  built  by  Solo- 
mon, with  immense  cost,  where  the  divine  worship  should 
be  statedly  celebrated,  and  where  all  the  males  of  Israel 
should  solemnly  meet  for  that  purpose  three  times  in  a 
year. 

These  externals  were  not  intended  to  exclude  the  in- 
ternal worship  of  the  spirit,  but  to  express  and  assist 
it.  And  these  ccrmonials  were  not  to  be  put  into  the 
place  of  morals,  but  observed  as  helps  to  the  practice  of 
them,  and  to  prefigure  the  great  Messiah  :  Even  under 
the  Mosaic  dispensation,  God  had  the  greatest  regard  to 
holiness  of  heart  and  a  good  life  5  and  the  strictest  ob- 
server of  ceremonies  could  not  be  accepted  without 
them. 

But  it  is  natural  to  degenerate  mankind  to  mvert  the 
order  of  things,  to  place  a  part,  the  easiest  and  meanest 
part  of  religion,  for  the  whole  of  it,  to  rest  in  the  exter- 
nals of  religion  as  sufficient,  without  regarding  the  heart, 
and  to  depend  upon  pharisaical  strictness  in  ceremonial 
observances,  as  an  excuse  or  atonement  for  neglecting 
the  weighter  matters  of  the  law,  judgment,  mercy,  and 
faith. 

This  was  the  unhappy  error  of  the  Jews  in  Isaiah's 
time  ;  and  this  the  Lord  would  correct  in  the  fiirst  verses 
of  this  chapter. 

The  Jews  gloried  in  their  having  the  house  of  God 
among  them,  and  were  ever  trusting  in  vain  words,  say- 
ing. The  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  tem- 
ple of  the  Lord  are  these.  Jer.  vii.  4.  They  filled  his  al- 
tars with  costly  sacrifices  ;  and  in  these  they  trusted  to 
make  atonement  for  sin,  and  secure  the  divine  favor. 

As  to  their  sacrifices  God  lets  them  know,  that  while 
they  had  no  regard  to  their  morals,  'uut  chose  their  own 
ways,  and  their  souls  delighted  in  their  abominations, 
while  they  presented  them  in  a  formal  manner,  without 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  115 

the  fire  of  divine  love,  their  sacrifices  were  so  far  from 
procuring  his  acceptance,  that  they  were  odious  to  him. 
He  abhors  their  most  expensive  offerings  as  abominable 
and  profane.  He  that  kiUeth  an  ox  for  sacrifice  is  as  far 
from  being  accepted  as  if  he  unjustly  slew  a  man  ;  he  that 
sacrificeth  a  lamb,  as  if  he  cut  off  a  dog's  neck^  S)'e.  Isaiah 
Ixvi.  3. 

To  remove  this  superstitious  confidence  in  the  temple, 
the  Lord  informs  them  that  he  had  no  need  of  it  ;  that, 
large  and  magnificent  as  it  was,  it  was  not  fit  to  contain 
him  ;  and  that,  in  consecrating  it  to  him,  they  should 
not  proudly  think  that  they  had  given  him  anything  to 
which  he  had  no  prior  right.  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  the 
heaven  is  my  throne,  where  I  reign  conspicuous  in  the 
visible  majesty  and  grandeur  of  a  God  ;  and  though  the 
earth  is  not  adorned  with  such  illustrious  displays  of  my 
immediate  presence,  though  it  does  not  shine  in  all  the 
glory  of  my  royal  palace  on  high,  yet  it  is  a  little  pro- 
vince in  my  immense  empire,  and  subject  to  my  autho- 
rity ;  it  is  my  footstool.  If,  then,  heaven  is  my  throne, 
and  earth  is  my  footstool  ;  if  the  whole  creation  is  my 
kingdom,  where  is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  1 
where  is  your  temple  which  appears  so  stately  in  your 
eyes  \  it  is  vanished,  it  is  sunk  into  nothing.  Is  it 
able  to  contain  that  infinite  Being  to  whom  the  whole 
earth  is  but  an  humble  footstool,  and  the  vast  heaven  but 
a  throne  1  Can  you  vainly  imagine  that  my  presence 
can  be  confined  to  you  in  the  narrow  bounds  of  a  tem- 
ple, when  the  heaven  and  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot 
contain  me  1  Where  is  the  place  of  my  rest  ]  can  you 
provide  a  place  for  my  repose,  as  though  I  were  weary  1 
or  can  my  presence  be  restrained  to  one  place,  incapa- 
ble of  acting  beyond  the  prescribed  limits  1  No  ;  infi- 
nite space  only  can  equal  my  being  and  perfections ;  in- 
finite space  only  is  a  sufficient  sphere  for  my  operations. 

"  Can  you  imagine  you  can  bribe  my  favor,  and  give 
me  something  I  had  no  right  to  before,  by  all  the  stately 
buildings  you  can  rear  to  my  name  1  Is  not  universal 
nature  mine  1  For  all  these  things  hath  mine  hand  made 
out  of  nothing,  and  all  these  things  have  been  or  still 
subsist  by  the  support  of  my  all-preserving  hand,  and 
what  right  can  be  more  valid  and  inalienable  than  that 
founded  upon  creation  ]     Your  silver  and  gold  are  mine 


116  POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPIRITS 

and  mine  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills  ;  and  therefore 
of  mine  own  do  you  give  me,  saith  the  Lord." 

These  are  such  majestic  strains  of  language  as  are 
■worthy  a  God.  Thus  it  becomes  him  to  advance  him- 
self above  the  whole  creation,  and  to  assert  his  absolute 
property  in,  and  independency  upon,  the  universe. 

Had  he  only  turned  to  us  the  bright  side  of  his  throne, 
that  dazzles  us  with  insufferable  splendor  j  had  he  only 
displayed  his  majesty  unallayed  with  grace  and  conde- 
scension in  such  language  as  this,  it  would  have  over- 
whelmed us,  and  cast  us  into  the  most  abject  despon- 
dency, as  the  outcasts  of  his  providence,  beneath  his 
notice.  We  might  fear  he  would  overlook  us  with  ma- 
jestic disdain,  or  careless  neglect,  like  the  little  things 
that  are  called  great  by  mortals,  or  as  the  busy  emmets 
of  our  species  are  apt  to  do.  In  the  hurry  of  business 
they  are  liable  to  neglect,  and  in  the  power  of  pride  and 
grandeur  to  overlook  or  disdain  their  dependents.  We 
should  be  ready,  in  hopeless  anxiety,  to  say,  "  Is  all  this 
earth  which  to  us  appears  so  vast,  and  which  is  parcel- 
ed into  a  thousand  mighty  kingdoms,  as  we  call  them, 
is  it  all  but  the  humble  footstool  of  God  1  hardly  wor- 
thy to  bear  his  feet  1  What  then  am  1 1  an  atom  of  an 
atom-world,  a  trifling  individual  of  a  trifling  race.  Can 
I  expect  he  will  take  any  notice  of  such  an  insignificant 
thing  as  I  \  The  vast  afiairs  of  heaven  and  earth  lie 
upon  his  head,  and  he  is  employed  in  the  concerns  of  the 
wide  universe,  and  can  he  find  leisure  to  concern  him- 
self with  me,  and  my  little  interests  ]  Will  a  king,  de- 
liberating upon  the  concerns  of  nations,  interest  himself 
in  favor  of  the  worm  that  craAvls  at  his  footstool  l  If 
the  magnificent  temple  of  Solomon  was  unworthy  of  the 
divine  inhabitant,  will  he  admit  me  into  his  presence, 
and  give  me  audience  1  how  can  I  expect  it  1  It  seems 
daring  and  presumptuous  to  hope  for  such  condescen- 
sion. And  shall  I  then  despair  of  the  gracious  regard  of 
my  Maker  1" 

No,  desponding  creature  !  mean  and  unworthy  as  thou 
art,  hear  the  voice  of  divine  condescension,  as  well  as  of 
majesty  :  7b  this  man  will  I  look^  even  to  him  that  is 
poor,  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  that  trembleth  at  my  word. 
Though  God  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands, 
though   he   pours   contempt  upon    princes,  and   scorns 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  H? 

tbem  in  all  their  haughty  glory  and  affected  majesty, 
yet  there  are  persons  whom  his  gracious  eye  will  regard. 
The  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  and 
dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  he  will  look  down 
through  all  the  shining  ranks  of  angels  upon — whom  1 
Not  on  the  proud,  the  haughty  and  presumptuous,  but 
upon  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  spirit^  and  trembleth 
at  his  word.  To  this  man  will  he  look  from  the  throne 
of  his  majesty,  however  Ioav,  however  mean  he  may  be. 
This  man  is  an  object  that  can,  as  it  were,  attract  his 
eyes  from  all  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  world,  so  as  to 
regard  an  humble,  self-abasing  worm.  This  man  can 
never  be  lost  or  overlooked  among  the  multitudes  of 
creatures,  but  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  will  discover  him  in 
the  greatest  crowed,  his  eyes  will  graciously  fix  upon 
this  man,  this  particular  man,  though  there  were  but  one 
such  in  the  compass  of  the  creation,  or  though  he  w^ere 
banished  into  the  remotest  corner  of  the  universe,  like 
a  diamond  in  a  heap  of  rubbish,  or  at  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean. 

Do  you  hear  this,  you  that  are  poor  and  contrite  in 
spirit,  and  that  tremble  at  his  word  '\  ye  that,  above  all 
others,  are  most  apt  to  fear  you  shall  be  disregarded  by 
him,  because  you,  of  all  others,  are  most  deeply  sensible 
how  unworthy  you  are  of  his  gracious  notice  :  God,  the 
great,  the  glorious,  the  terrible  God,  looks  down  upon 
you  with  eyes  of  love,  and  by  so  much  the  more  affec- 
tionately, by  how  much  the  lower  you  are  in  your  own 
esteem.  Does  not  your  heart  spring  within  you  at  the 
sound  1  Are  you  not  lost  in  pleasing  wonder  and  grati- 
tude, and  crying  out,  "  Can  it  be  1  can  it  be  %  is  it  in- 
deed possible  1  is  it  true  V  Yes,  you  have  his  own 
word  for  it,  and  do  you  not  think  it  too  good  news  to  be 
xrue,  but  believe,  and  rejoice,  and  give  glory  to  his 
name  ;  and  fear  not  what  men  or  devils  can  do  unto 
you. 

This,  my  brethren,  is  a  matter  of  universal  concern. 
It  is  the  interest  of  each  of  us  to  know  whether  we  are 
thus  graciously  regarded  by  that  God  on  whom  our  very 
being  and  all  our  happiness  entirely  depend.  And  how 
shall  we  know  this  1  In  no  other  way  than  by  discover- 
ing whether  w^e  have  the  characters  of  that  happy  man 
to  whom  he  condescends  to  look.    These  are  not  pomp- 


118  POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPIRITS 

ous  and  high  characters,  they  are  not  formed  by  earthly 
riches,  learning,  glory,  and  power :  But  to  this  man  wilt 
I  look,  saith  the  Lord,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a 
contrite  spirit,  a?id  that  trembleth  at  my  word.  Let  us  in- 
quire into  the  import  of  each  of  the  characters. 

L  It  is  the  poor  man  to  whom  the  Majesty  of  heaven 
condescends  to  look. 

This  does  not  principally  refer  to  those  that  are  poor 
in  this  world  ;  for,  though  it  be  very  common  that  "  the 
poor  of  this  world  are  chosen  to  be  rich  in  faith  and 
heirs  of  the  kingdom  ; "  James  ii.  5 ;  yet  this  is  not  a 
universal  rule  ;  for  many,  alas  !  that  are  poor  in  this 
world  are  not  rich  towcirds  God,  nor  rich  in  good  works, 
and  therefore  shall  famish  through  eternity  in  remedi- 
less want  and  wretchedness.  But  the  poor  here  signifies 
such  as  Christ  characterizes  more  fully  by  the  poor  in 
spirit ;  Matt.  v.  3.  And  this  character  implies  the  fol- 
lowing ingredients : 

1.  The  poor  man,  to  whom  Jehovah  looks,  is  deeply 
sensible  of  his  own  insufficiency,  and  that  nothing  but 
the  enjoyment  of  God  can  make  him  happy. 

The  poor  man  feels  that  he  is  not  formed  self-suffi- 
cient, but  a  dependent  upon  God.  He  is  sensible  of  the 
weakness  and  poverty  of  his  nature,  and  that  he  was  not 
endowed  with  a  sufficient  stock  of  riches  in  his  creation 
to  support  him  through  the  endless  duration  for  which 
he  was  formed,  or  even  for  a  single  day.  The  feeble 
vine  does  not  more  closely  adhere  to  the  elm  than  he 
does  to  his  God.  He  is  not  more  sensible  of  the  insuf- 
ficiency of  his  body  to  subsist  without  air,  or  the  pro- 
ductions of  the  earth,  than  of  that  of  his  soul  without  his 
God,  and  the  enjoyment  of  his  love.  In  short,  he  is  re- 
duced into  his  proper  place  in  the  system  of  the  universe, 
low  and  mean  in  comparison  with  superior  beings  of  the 
angelic  order,  and  especially  in  comparison  with  the 
great  Parent  and  support  of  nature.  He  feels  himself  to 
be,  what  he  really  is,  a  poor,  impotent,  dependent  crea- 
ture, that  can  neither  live,  nor  move,  nor  exist  without 
God.  He  is  sensible  that  his  sufficiency  is  of  God,  2  Cor. 
iii.  5,  "  and  that  all  the  springs  of  his  happiness  are  in 
him." 

This  sense  of  his  dependence  upon  God  is  attended 
with  a  sense  of  the  inabihty  of  all  earthly  enjoyments  to 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  119 

make  him  happy,  and  fill  the  vast  capacities  of  his  soul, 
which  were  formed  for  the  enjoyment  of  an  infinite  good. 
He  has  a  relish  for  the  blessings  of  this  life,  but  it  is  at- 
tended with  a  sense  of  their  insufficiency,  and  does  not 
exclude  a  stronger  relish  for  the  superior  pleasures  of 
religion.  He  is  not  a  precise  hermit,  or  a  sour  ascetic, 
on  the  one  hand ;  and,  on  the  other,  he  is  not  a  lover  of 
jileasure  more  than  a  lover  of  God. 

If  he  enjoys  no  great  share  of  the  comforts  of  this  life, 
he  does  not  labor,  nor  so  much  as  wish  for  them  as  his 
supreme  happiness :  he  is  w^ell  assured  they  can  never 
answer  this  end  in  their  greatest  affluence.  It  is  for  God, 
it  is  for  the  living  God,  that  his  soul  mos;;  eagerly  thirsts. 
In  the  greatest  extremity  he  is  sensible  that  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  love  is  more  necessary  to  his  felicity  than 
the  possession  of  earthly  blessings  ;  nay,  he  is  sensible 
that  if  he  is  miserable  in  the  absence  of  these,  the  prin- 
cipal cause  is  the  absence  of  his  God.  0 !  if  he  were 
blest  with  the  perfect  enjoyment  of  God,  he  could  say, 
with  Habakkuk,  Though  the  fig-tree  should  not  blossom, 
and  there  should  be  no  fruit  in  the  vi?ie  ;  though  the  labor 
of  the  olive  should  fail,  and  the  fields  yield  no  meat ;  though 
the  flock  should  be  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  be  no 
herd  in  the  stall  ;  though  universal  famine  should  strip 
me  of  all  my  earthly  blessings,  yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the 
Lord,  as  my  complete  happiness ;  /  will  joy  in  the  God  of 
my  salvation.     Hab.  iii.  17,  18. 

If  he  enjoys  an  affluence  of  earthly  blessings,  he  still 
retains  a  sense  of  his  need  of  the  enjoyment  of  God.  To 
be  discontented  and  dissatisfied  is  the  common  fate  of 
the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor ;  they  are  still  craving,  crav- 
ing an  unknow^n  something  to  complete  their  bliss.  The 
soul,  being  formed  for  the  fruition  of  "the  Supreme  Good, 
secretly  languishes  and  pines  away  in  the  midst  of  other 
enjoyments,  without  knowing  its  cure.  It  is  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God  only  that  can  satisfy  its  unbounded  desires  ; 
but,  alas  !  it  has  no  relish  for  him,  no  thirst  after  him  ;  it 
is  still  crying,  "  More,  more  of  the  delights  of  the  world  j" 
like  a  man  in  a  burning  fever,  that  calls  for  cold  water, 
that  will  but  inflame  his  disease,  and  occasion  a  more 
painful  return  of  thirst.  But  the  poor  in  spirit  know 
where  their  cure  lies.  They  do  not  ask  with  uncertainty, 
Who  will  show  us  any  sort  of  good  ?  but  their  petitions 


120  POOR    A7<D    C0?.TK1TE    SPIRITS 

centre  in  this  as  the  grand  constituent  of  their  happiness^ 
Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  lia;ht  of  thy  countenance  upon  us  ; 
and  this  puts  more  gladness  into  their  hearts  than  the. 
abundance  of  corn  and  wine  ;  Psahiri  iv.  6,  7.  This  was 
the  language  of  the  Psalmist,  There  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  besides  thee.  J\Iy  flesh  and  my  heart  faileth  ; 
but  thou  art  the  streneth  of  my  hearty  and  my  portion  for 
ever  ;  Psalm  Ixxiii.  25,  26.  And  as  this  disposition  ex- 
tends to  all  earthly  things,  so  it  does  to  all  created  en- 
joyments whatsoever,  even  to  those  of  the  heavenly 
world;  the  poor  man  is  sensible  that  he  could  not  be 
happy  even  there  without  the  enjoyment  of  God.  His 
language  is.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  1  It  is  behold- 
ing thy  face  i?i  righteousness,  and  awaki?ig  in  thy  likeness^ 
that  alone  can  satisfy  me  ;  Psalm  xvii.  15. 

2.  This  spiritual  poverty  implies  deep  humility  and 
self-abasement. 

The  poor  man  on  whom  the  God  of  heaven  conde- 
scends to  look  is  mean  in  his  own  apprehensions;  he 
accounts  himself  not  a  being  of  mighty  importance.  He 
has  no  high  esteem  of  his  own  good  qualities,  but  is 
little  in  his  own  eyes.  He  is  not  apt  to  give  himself  the 
preference  to  others,  but  is  ready  to  give  way  to  them 
as  his  superiors.  He  has  a  generous  sagacity  to  behold 
their  good  qualities,  and  commendable  blindness  towards 
their  imperfections :  but  he  is  not  quick  to  discern  his 
owTi  excellences,  nor  sparing  to  his  own  frailties. 

Instead  of  being  dazzled  with  the  splendor  of  his  own 
endowments  or  acquisitions,  he  is  apt  to  overlook  them 
with  a  noble  neglect,  and  is  sensible  of  the  weakness  and 
defects  of  his  nature. 

And  as  to  his  gracious  qualities,  they  appear  small, 
exceeding  small  to  him:  when  he  considers  how  much 
they  fall  short  of  what  they  should  be,  they  as  it  were 
vanish  and  shrink  into  nothing.  How  cold  does  his  love 
appear  to  him  in  its  greatest  fervor !  How  feeble  his 
faith  in  its  greatest  confidence  !  How  superficial  his 
repentance  in  its  greatest  depth  !  How  proud  his  low- 
est humility !  And  as  for  the  good  actions  he  has  per- 
formed, alas  !  how  few,  how  poorly  done,  how  short  of 
his  duty  do  they  appear !  After  he  has  done  all,  he 
counts  himself  an  unprofitable  servant.  After  he  has 
done  all,  he  is  more  apt  to  adopt  the  language  of  the 


■•IU-:   Ol-JLCTS    OF    DIVIKE    FAVOR.  121 

publican  than  the  pliarisee,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sm- 
ncr.  Ill  his  highest  attainments  he  is  not  apt  to  admire 
himself;  so  far  is  he  from  it,  that  it  is  much  more  natu- 
ral to  him  to  fall  into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  to 
account  himself  the  least,  yea,  less  than  the  least  of  all 
other  saints  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  :  and  if  he  con- 
tends for  any  preference,  it  is  for  the  lowest  place  in  the 
list  of  Christians.  This  disposition  was  remarkably  ex- 
emplified in  St.  Paul,  who  probably  had  made  greater 
advancements  in  holiness  than  any  other  saint  that  was 
ever  received  to  heaven  from  this  guilty  world. 

He  that  is  poor  in  spirit  has  also  an  humbling  sense 
of  his  own  sinfulness.  His  memory  is  quick  to  recol- 
lect his  past  sins,  and  he  is  very  sharp-sighted  to  discov- 
er the  remaining  corruptions  of  his  heart,  and  the  im- 
perfections of  his  best  duties.  He  is  not  ingenious  to 
excuse  them,  but  views  them  impartially  in  all  their  de- 
formity and  aggravations.  He  sincerely  doubts  whether 
there  be  a  saint  upon  earth  so  exceeding  corrupt ;  and, 
though  he  may  be  convinced  that  the  Lord  has  begun  a 
work  of  grace  in  him,  and  consequently,  that  he  is  in  a 
better  state  than  such  as  are  under  the  prevailing  domin- 
ion of  sm,  yet  he  really  questions  whether  there  be  such 
a  depraved  creature  in  the  world  as  he  sees  he  has  been. 
He  is  apt  to  count  himself  the  chief  of  sinners,  and 
more  indebted  to  free  grace  than  any  of  the  sons  of  men. 
He  IS  intimately  acquainted  v.dth  himself ;  but  he  sees 
only  the  outside  of  others,  and  hence  he  concludes  him- 
self so  much  w^orse  than  others  ;  hence  he  loathes  him- 
self m  his  own  sight  for  ail  his  abominations.  Ezek. 
xxxvi.  31.  Self-abasement  is  pleasing  to  him  ;  his  hu- 
mility is  not  forced  ;  he  does  not  think  it  a  great  thing 
for  him  to  sink  thus  low.  He  plainly  sees  himself  to  be 
a  mean,  sinful,  exceeding  sinful  creature,  and  therefore 
IS  sure  that  it  is  no  condescension,  but  the  most  reason- 
able thing  in  the  world,  for  him  to  think  meanly  of  him-  . 
self,  and  to  humble  and  abase  himself.  It  is  unnatural 
for  one  that  esteems  himself  a  being  of  great  impor- 
tance to  stoop  ;  but  it  is  easy,  and  appears  no  self-denial 
for  a  poor  mean  creature  to  do  so,  who  looks  upon  him- 
self, and  feels  himself,  to  be  such. 

Finally,  the  poor  man  is  deeply  sensible   of  his  own 
unworthiness.     He  sees  that  in  him?elf  he  deserves  no 
11 


122  POOR    AKD    CO^'TRITE    SPIRITS 

favor  from  God  for  all  the  good  he  has  ever  done,  bul 
that  He  may  after  all  justly  reject  him.  He  makes  no 
proud  boasts  of  his  good  heart,  or  good  life,  but  falls  in 
the  dust  before  God,  and  casts  all  his  dependence  upon 
his  free  grace  : — which  leads  me  to  observe, 

3.  That  he  who  is  poor  in  spirit  is  sensible  of  his 
need  of  the  influences  of  divine  grace  to  sanctify  him, 
and  enrich  him  with  the  graces  of  the  Spirit. 

He  is  sensible  of  the  want  of  holiness ;  this  necessa- 
rily flows  from  his  sense  of  his  corruption,  and  the  im- 
perfection of  all  his  graces.  Holiness  is  the  one  thing 
needful  with  him,  which  he  desires  and  longs  for  above 
all  others  ;  and  he  is  deeply  sensible  that  he  cannot  work 
it  in  his  own  heart  by  his  own  strength  ;  he  feels  that 
without  Christ  he  can  do  nothing,  and  that  it  is  God  who 
must  work  in  him  both  to  will  and  to  do.  Hence,  like  a 
poor  man  that  cannot  subsist  upon  his  stock,  he  depends 
entirely  upon  the  grace  of  God  to  work  all  his  w^orks  in 
him,  and  to  enable  him  to  work  out  his  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling. 

4.  He  is  deeply  sensible  of  the  absolute  necessity 
of  the  righteousness  of  Christ  for  his  justification. 

He  does  not  think  himself  rich  in  good  works  to 
bribe  his  judge,  and  procure  acquittance,  but,  like  a  poor 
criminal  that,  having  nothing  to  purchase  a  pardon,  no- 
thing to  plead  in  his  own  defence,  casts  himself  upon  the 
mercy  of  the  court,  he  places  his  whole  dependence 
upon  the  free  grace  of  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  He 
pleads  his  righteousness  only,  and  trusts  in  it  alone.  The 
rich  scorn  to  be  obliged ;  but  the  poor,  that  cannot  sub- 
sist of  themselves,  will  cheerfully  receive  it. 

5.  And  lastly,  the  man  that  is  poor  in  spirit  is  an 
importunate  beggar  at  the  throne  of  grace. 

He  lives  upon  charity ;  he  lives  upon  the  bounties  of 
Heaven ;  and,  as  these  are  not  to  be  obtained  without 
begging,  he  is  frequently  lifting  up  his  cries  to  the 
Father  of  all  his  mercies  for  them.  He  attends  upon 
the  ordinances  of  God,  as  Bartimeus  by  the  way-side,  to 
ask  the  charity  of  passengers.  Prayer  is  the  natural 
language  of  spiritual  poverty  :  The  poor^  saith  Solomon, 
useth  entreaties  J  Prov.  xviii.  23  ;  whereas  they  that  are 
rich  m  their  own    conceit  can  live  without  prayer,  or 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  123 

content  themselves  with   the  formal,  careless  perform- 
ance of  it. 

This  is  the  habitual  character  of  that  poor  man  to 
whom  the  Majesty  of  heaven  vouchsafes  the  looks  of 
his  love.  At  times  indeed  he  has  but  little  sense  of 
these  things  ;  but  then  he  is  uneasy,  and  he  labors  to 
re-obtain  it,  and  sometimes  is  actually  blessed  with  it. 

And  is  there  no  such  poor  man  or  woman  in  this  as- 
sembly 1  I  hope  there  is.  Where  are  ye,  poor  crea- 
tures 1  stand  forth,  and  receive  the  blessings  of  your 
Kedeemer,  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  &c.  He  who 
has  his  throne  in  the  height  of  heaven,  and  to  whom  this 
vast  earth  is  but  a  footstool,  looks  upon  you  Avith  eyes 
of  love.  This  spiritual  poverty  is  greater  riches  than 
the  treasures  of  the  universe.  Be  not  ashamed,  there- 
fore, to  own  yourselves  poor  men,  if  such  you  are.  May 
God  thus  impoverish  us  all  ;  may  he  strip  us  of  all  our 
imaginary  grandeur  and  riches,  and  reduce  us  to  poor 
beggars  at  his  door  ! 

But  it  is  time  to  consider  the  other  character  of  the 
happy  man  upon  whom  the  Lord  of  heaven  will  gra- 
ciously look  :  and  that  is, 

II.  Contrition  of  spirit.  To  this  man  will  I  look  that  is 
of  a  contrite  spirit. 

The  word  contrite  signifies  one  that  is  beaten  or  bruised 
with  hard  blows,  or  a  heavy  burden.  And  it  belongs  to 
the  mourning  penitent  whose  heart  is  broken  and 
wounded  for  sin.  Sin  is  an  intolerable  burden  that 
crushes  and  bruises  him,  and  he  feels  himself  pained  and 
.sore  under  it.  His  stony  heart,  which  could  not  be  im- 
pressed, but  rather  repelled  the  blow,  is  taken  away  ; 
and  now  he  has  a  heart  of  flesh,  easily  bruised  and 
wounded.  His  heart  is  not  always  hard  and  senseless, 
light  and  trifling  ;  but  it  has  tender  sensations  ;  he  is 
easily  susceptible  of  sorrow  for  sin,  is  humbled  under  a 
sense  of  his  imperfections,  and  is  really  pained  and  dis- 
tressed because  he  can  serve  his  God  no  better,  but  daily 
sins  against  him.  This  character  may  also  agree  to  the 
poor  anxious  soul  that  is  broken  with  cruel  fears  of  its 
state.  The  stout-hearted  can  venture  their  eternal  all 
upon  uncertainty  ;  and  indulge  pleasing  hopes  without 
anxiously  examining  their  foundation  ;  but  he  that  is 
of  a  contrite  spirit  is  tenderly  sensible  of  the  importance 


124*  POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPIRITS 

of  the  matter,  and  cannot  be  easy  without  some  good 
evidence  of  safety.  Such  shocking  suppositions  as 
these  frequently  startle  him,  and  pierce  his  very  heart  ; 
"  What  if  I  should  be  deceived  at  lastl  What  if  after 
all  I  should  be  banished  from  that  God  in  whom  lies  all 
my  happiness  1"  &c.  These  are  suppositions  full  of  in- 
supportable terror,  when  they  appear  but  barely  possi- 
ble ;  and  much  more  when  there  seems  to  be  reason  for 
them.  Such  an  habitual  pious  jealousy  as  this,  is  a  good 
symptom ;  and  to  your  pleasing  surprise,  ye  doubtful 
Christians,  I  may  tell  you  that  that  Majesty,  who  you  are 
afraid  disregards  you,  looks  down  upon  you  with  pity. 
Therefore  lift  up  your  eyes  to  him  in  wonder  and  joyful 
confidence.  You  are  not  such  neglected  things  as  you 
think.  The  Majesty  of  heaven  thinks  it  not  beneath  him 
to  look  down  through  all  the  glorious  orders  of  angels, 
and  through  interposing  Avorlds,  down,  do\vn  even  upon 
you  in  the  depth  of  your  self-abhorrence.     Let  us, 

III.  Consider  the  remaining  character  of  the  happy 
man  to  whom  the  Lord  Avill  look  :  Him  that  trevihleth  at 
7ny  word. 

This  character  implies  a  tender  sense  of  the  great 
things  of  the  word,  and  a  heart  easily  impressed  with 
them  as  the  most  important  realities.  This  was  re- 
markably exemplified  in  tender-hearted  Josiah.  2 
Chron.  xxiv.  19,  20,  27.  To  one  that  trembles  at  the 
divine  Avord,  the  threatenings  of  it  do  not  appear  vain 
terrors,  nor  great  swelling  words  of  vanity,  but  the  most 
tremendous  realities.  Such  an  one  cannot  bear  up  un- 
der them,  but  would  tremble,  and  fall,  and  die  away,  if 
not  relieved  by  some  happy  promise  of  deliverance.  He 
that  trembles  at  the  word  of  God  is  not  a  stupid  hearer 
or  reader  of  it.  It  reaches  and  pierces  his  heart  as  a 
t^harp  two-edged  sword  ;  it  carries  power  along  with  it, 
and  he  feels  that  it  is  the  word  of  God,  and  not  of  men, 
even  when  it  is  spoken  by  feeble  mortals.  Thus  he  not 
only  trembles  at  the  terror,  but  at  the  authority  of  the 
word  ; — which  leads  me  to  observe  farther,  that  he 
trembles  with  filial  veneration  of  the  majesty  of  God 
speaking  in  his  word.  He  considers  it  as  his  voice  who 
spake  all  things  into  being,  and  whose  glory  is  such  that 
a  deep  solemnity  must  seize  those  that  are  admitted  to 
liear  him  speak. 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  125 

How  opposite  is  this  to  the  temper  of  multitudics  who 
regard  the  word  of  God  no  more  than  (with  horror  I  ex- 
press it)  the  word  of  a  child  or  a  fooh  They  will  have 
their  own  way,  let  him  say  what  he  will.  They  persist 
in  sin,  in  defiance  of  his  threatenings.  They  sit  as 
careless  and  stupid  under  his  word,  as  though  it  were 
some  old,  dull,  trifling  story.  It  seldom  makes  any  im- 
pressions upon  their  stony  hearts.  These  are  the  brave, 
i;ndaunted  men  of  the  world,  who  harden  themselves 
against  the  fear  of  futurity.  But,  unhappy  creatures  ! 
the  God  of  heaven  disdains  to  give  them  a  gracious 
look,  while  he  fixes  his  eyes  upon  the  man  that  "  is  con- 
trite, and  that  trembles  at  his  word." 

And  where  is  that  happy  man  1  Where  in  this  as- 
sembly, where  is  the  contrite  spirit  1  Where  the  man 
that  trembleth  at  the  word  1  You  are  all  ready  to  catch 
at  the  character,  but  be  not  presumptuous  on  the  one 
hand,  nor  excessively  timorous  on  the  other.  Inquire 
whether  this  be  your  prevailing  character.  If  so,  then 
claim  it,  and  rejoice  in  it,  though  you  have  it  not  in  per- 
fection. But  if  you  have  it  not  prevailingly,  do  not  seize 
it  as  your  own.  Though  you  have  been  at  times  dis- 
tressed with  a  sense  of  siii  and  danger,  and  the  word 
strikes  a  terror  to  your  hearts,  yet,  unless  you  are  ha- 
bitually of  a  tender  and  a  contrite  spirit,  you  are  not  to 
claim  the  character. 

But  let  such  of  you  as  are  poor  and  contrite  in  spirit, 
and  that  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord,  enter  deeply 
into  the  meaning  of  this  expression,  that  the  Lord  looks 
to  you.  He  does  not  look  on  you  as  a  careless  specta- 
tor, not  concerning  himself  with  you,  or  caring  what 
will  become  of  you,  but  he  looks  upon  you  as  a  father, 
a  friend,  a  benefactor  :  his  looks  are  efficacious  for  your 
good. 

He  looks  upon  you  with  acceptance.  He  is  pleased 
with  the  sight.  He  loves  to  see  you  laboring  towards 
him.  He  looks  upon  you  as  the  objects  of  his  everlasting 
love,  and  purchased  by  the  blood  of  his  Son,  and  he  is 
well  pleased  with  you  for  his  righteousness'  sake. 
Hence  his  looking  upon  him  that  is  poor,  &c.  is  op- 
posed to  his  hating  the  wicked  and  their  sacrifices,  vej\ 
3.  And  is  he  whom  you  have  so  grievously  offended, 
he  whose  wrath  you  fear  above  all  other  things,  is  he  iu- 
11* 


12G  POOR    AND    CO^^TRITE    SPIRITS 

deed  reconciled  to  you,  and  does  he  delight  in  you  1 
Avhat  cause  of  joy,  and  praise,  and  wonder  is  here  1 

Ag^in,  he  looks  to  you  so  as  to  take  particular  notice 
of  you.  He  sees  all  the  workings  of  your  hearts  to- 
wards him.  He  sees  and  pities  you  in  your  honest, 
though  feeble  conflicts  with  in-dwelling  sin.  He  ob- 
serves all  your  faithful  though  weak  endeavors  to  serre 
him.  His  eyes  pierce  your  very  hearts,  and  the  least 
motion  there  cannot  escape  his  notice.  This  indeed 
might  make  you  tremble,  if  he  looked  upon  you  with  the 
eyes  of  a  judge,  for  O  how  many  abominations  must  he 
see  in  you  !  But  be  of  good  cheer,  he  looks  upon  you 
with  the  eyes  of  a  friend,  and  with  that  love  which  co 
vers  a  multitude  of  sins.  He  looks  upon  you  with  the 
eyes  of  compassion  in  all  your  calamities.  He  looks 
upon  you  to  see  that  you  be  not  overborne  and  crushed. 
David,  who  passed  through  as  many  hardships  and  afflic- 
tions as  any  of  you,  could  say  from  happy  experience, 
the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  upon  the  righteous^  and  his  ears  are 
open  to  their  cry.     Psal.  xxxiv.  15. 

Finally,  he  looks  to  you  so  as  to  look  after  you,  as 
we  do  after  the  sick  and  weak.  He  looks  to  you  so  as 
to  provide  for  you  :  and  he  will  give  you  grace  and  glo- 
ry, and  710  good  thing  will  he  held  from  you.  Psal.  Ixxxiv. 
11. 

And  are  you  not  safe  and  happy  under  the  inspection 
of  a  father  and  a  friend  1  Let  a  little  humble  courage 
then  animate  you  amid  your  many  dejections,  and  con- 
fide in  that  care  of  which  you  feel  yourself  to  be  so  un- 
worthy. 

Here  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  observe,  what  must  give 
you  no  small  pleasure,  that  those  very  persons  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  estimate  of  men,  are  the  most  likely  to  be 
overlooked,  are  those  whom  God  graciously  regards. 
The  persons  themselves  are  apt  to  cry,  "  Happy  I,  could 
I  believe  that  the  God  of  heaven  thus  graciously  regards 
me  ;  but  alas  !  I  feel  myself  a  poor  unworthy  creature  ; 
I  am  a  trembling,  broken-hearted  thing,  beneath  the  no- 
tice of  so  great  a  Majesty."  And  art  thou  so  indeed  % 
then  I  may  convert  thy  objection  into  an  encouragement. 
Thou  art  the  very  person  upon  whom  God  looks.  His 
eyes  are  running  to  and  fro  through  the  earth  in  quest  of 
such  as  thou  art  j  and  he  will  find  thee  out  among  the  in- 


THE    OBJECTS    OF    DIVINE    FAVOR.  127 

numerable  multitudes  of  mankind.  Wert  thou  surround- 
ed with  crowds  of  kings  and  nobles,  his  eyes  would  pass 
by  them  all  to  fix  upon  thee.  What  a  glorious  artifice, 
if  I  may  so  speak,  is  this,  to  catch  at  and  convert  the 
person's  discouragement  as  a  ground  of  courage  !  to 
make  that  the  character  of  the  favorites  of  Heaven, 
which  they  themselves  look  upon  as  marks  of  his  neg- 
lect of  them  !  "Alas,"  says  the  poor  man,  "  if  I  was 
the  object  of  divine  notice,  he  would  not  suffer  me  to 
continue  thus  poor  and  broken-hearted."  But  you  may 
reason  directly  the  reverse  ;  he  makes  you  thus  poor  in 
spirit,  sensible  of  your  sinfulness  and  imperfections,  be- 
cause that  he  graciously  regards  you.  He  will  not  suf- 
fer you  to  be  puffed  up  with  your  imaginary  goodness, 
like  the  rest  of  the  world,  because  he  loves  you  more 
than  he  loves  them. 

However  unaccountable  this  procedure  seems,  there 
is  very  good  reason  for  it.  The  poor  are  the  only  per- 
sons that  would  relish  the  enjoyment  of  God,  and  prize 
his  love  ;  they  alone  are  capable  of  the  happiness  of 
heaven,  which  consists  in  the  perfection  of  holiness. 

To  conclude,  let  us  view  the  perfection  and  conde- 
scension of  God  as  illustrated  by  this  subject.  Consider, 
ye  poor  in  spirit,  who  he  is  that  stoops  to  look  upon 
such  little  things  as  you.  It  is  he  whose  throne  is  in 
the  highest  heaven,  surrounded  with  myriads  of  angels 
and  archangels  ;  it  is  he  whose  footstool  is  the  earth, 
who  supports  every  creature  upon  it ;  it  is  he  who  is  ex- 
alted above  the  blessing  and  praise  of  all  the  celestial 
armies,  and  who  cannot  without  condescension  behold 
the  things  that  are  done  in  heaven ;  it  is  he  that  looks 
do\vn  upon  such  poor  worms  as  you.  And  what  a  stoop 
is  this  % 

It  is  he  that  looks  upon  you  in  particular,  who  looks 
after  all  the  worlds  he  has  made.  He  manages  all  the 
affairs  of  the  universe  ;  he  takes  care  of  every  individu- 
al in  his  vast  family  ;  he  provides  for  all  his  creatures, 
and  yet  he  is  at  leisure  to  regard  you.  He  takes  as  par- 
ticular notice  of  you  as  if  you  were  his  only  creatures. 
What  perfection  is  this !  what  an  infinite  grasp  of 
thought !  what  unbounded  power  !  and  what  condescen- 
sion too  ! — Do  but  consider  what  a  small  figure  you 
make  in  the  universe  of  beings.     You   are  not  so  much 


128  POOR    AND    CONTRITE    SPIRITS,    &C. 

in  comparison  with  the  infinite  mukitude  of  creatures  in 
the  compass  of  nature,  as  a  grain  of  sand  to  all  the  sands 
upon  the  sea  shore,  or  as  a  mote  to  the  vast  globe  of 
earth.  And  yet  he,  that  has  the  care  of  the  whole  uni- 
verse, takes  particular  notice  of  you — you  who  are  but 
trifles,  compared  with  your  fellow  creatures  ;  and  who, 
if  you  were  annihilated,  would  hardly  leave  a  blank  in 
the  creation.  Consider  this,  and  wonder  at  the  conde- 
scension of  God  ;  consider  this,  and  acknowledge  your 
own  meanness  ;  you  are  but  nothing,  not  only  compared 
with  God,  but  you  are  as  nothing  in  the  system  of  crea- 
tion. 

I  shall  add  but  this  one  natural  reflection  :  If  it  be  so 
great  a  happiness  to  have  the  great  God  for  our  patron, 
then  what  is  it  to  be  out  of  his  favor  1  to  be  disregarded 
by  him  1  methinks  an  universal  tremor  may  seize  this 
assembly  at  the  very  supposition.  And  is  there  a  crea- 
ture in  the  universe  in  this  wretched  condition  1  me- 
thinks all  the  creation  besides  must  pity  him.  Where  is 
the  wretched  being  to  be  found  1  must  we  descend  to 
hell  to  find  him  1  No,  alas !  there  are  many  such  on 
this  earth  !  nay,  I  must  come  nearer  you  still,  there  are 
many  such  probably  in  this  assembly  :  all  among  you 
are  such  who  are  not  poor  and  contrite  in  spirit,  and  do 
not  tremble  at  the  word  of  the  Lord.  And  art  thou  not 
one  of  the  miserable  number,  0  man  1  What !  disregarded 
by  the  God  that  ma4e  thee  !  not  favored  with  one  look 
of  love  by  the  Author  of  all  happiness !  He  looks  on 
thee  indeed,  but  it  is  with  eyes  of  indignation,  marking 
thee  out  for  vengeance  ;  and  canst  thou  be  easy  in  such 
a  case  1  wilt  thou  not  labor  to  impoverish  thyself,  and 
have  thy  heart  broken,  that  thou  mayest  become  the  ob- 
ject of  his  gracious  regard  % 


DANGER    OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  129 


SERMON  VII. 

1  a£    NATURE    AND    DANGER    OF    IMAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST 
AND    SALVATION. 

Matt.  xii.  5 — But  they  made  light  of  it. 

There  is  not  one  of  us  in  this  assembly  that  has  heard 
anything,  but  what  has  heard  of  Christ  and  salvation  : 
there  is  not  one  of  us  but  has  had  the  rich  blessings  of 
the  gospel  freely  and  repeatedly  offered  to  us:  there  is 
not  one  of  us  but  stands  in  the  most  absolute  need  of 
these  blessings,  and  must  perish  for  ever  without  them  ; 
I  wish  I  could  add,  there  is  not  one  of  us  but  has  cheer- 
fully accepted  them  according  to  the  offer  of  the  gospel. 
But,  alas !  such  an  assembly  is  not  to  be  expected  on 
earth  !  Multitudes  will  make  light  of  Christ  and  the  in 
vitations  of  the  gospel,  as  the  Jews  did. 

This  parable  represents  jhe  great  God  under  the  ma- 
jestic idea  of  a  king. 

He  is  represented  as  making  a  marriage  feast  for  his 
Son;  that  is,  God  in  the  gospel  offers  his  Son  Jesus 
Christ  as  a  Savior  to  the  guilty  sons  of  men,  and,  upon 
their  acceptance  of  him,  the  most  intimate  and  endear- 
ing union,  and  the  tenderest  mutual  affection  take  place 
between  Christ  and  them  ;  which  may  properly  be  re- 
presented by  the  marriage  relation.  And  God  has  pro- 
vided for  them  a  rich  variety  of  blessings,  pardon,  holi- 
ness, and  everlasting  felicity,  which  may  be  signified  by 
a  royal  nuptial  feast,  verse  2. 

These  blessings  were  first  offered  to  the  Jews,  who 
were  bidden  to  the  wedding  by  Moses  and  the  pro- 
phets, whose  great  business  it  was  to  prepare  them  to  re- 
ceive the  Messiah,  verse  3. 

The  servants  that  were  sent  to  call  them,  that  were 
thus  bidden,  were  the  apostles  and  seventy  disciples, 
whom  Christ  sent  out  to  preach  that  the  gospel  kingdom 
was  just  at  hand,  verse  3. 

When  the  Jews  rejected  this  call,  he  sent  forth  other 
servants,  namely,  the  apostles,  after  his  ascension,  who 
were  to  be  more  urgent  in  their  invitations,  and  to  tell 


130  THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER 

them  that,  in  consequence  of  Christ's  death,  all  things 
■were  now  ready,  verse  4. 

It  is  seldom  that  invitations  to  a  royal  feast  are  re- 
jected ;  but  alas  !  the  Jews  rejected  the  invitation  of  the 
gospel,  and  would  not  accept  of  its  important  blessings. 
They  made  light  of  Christ  and  his  blessings  :  they  were 
careless  to  them,  and  turned  their  attention  to  other 
things. 

These  things  were  not  peculiar  to  the  Jews,  but  be- 
long to  us  sinners  of  the  Gentiles  in  these  ends  of  the 
earth.  Christ  is  still  proposed  to  us  ;  to  the  same  bless- 
ings we  are  invited ;  and  I  have  the  honor,  my  dear 
brethren,  of  appearing  among  you  as  a  servant  of  the 
heavenly  King,  sent  out  to  urge  you  to  embrace  the 
offer. 

I  doubt  not  but  sundry  of  you  have  complied ;  and 
you  are  enriched  and  made  for  ever. 

But  alas !  must  I  not  entertain  a  godly  jealousy  over 
some  of  you  1  Have  you  not  made  light  of  Christ  and 
salvation,  to  which  you  have  been  invited  for  so  many 
years  successively  % 

Your  case  is  really  lamentable,  as  I  hope  you  Avill  see 
before  I  have  done  ;  and  I  most  sincerely  compassionate 
you  from  my  heart.  I  now  rise  up  in  this  solemn  place 
with  the  design  to  address  you  with  the  most  awful  seri- 
ousness, and  the  most  compassionate  concern:  and  did 
you  know  how  much  your  happiness  may  depend  upon 
it,  and  how  anxious  I  am  lest  I  should  fail  in  the  attempt, 
I  am  sure  you  could  not  but  pray  for  me,  and  pity  me. 
[f  ever  you  regarded  a  man  in  the  most  serious  temper 
and  address,  I  beg  you  would  now  regard  what  I  am  go- 
ing to  say  to  you. 

You  cannot  receive  any  benefit  from  this,  or  indeed 
any  other  subject,  till  you  apply  it  to  yourselves.  And 
therefore,  in  order  to  reform  you  of  the  sin  of  making 
light  of  Christ  and  the  gospel,  I  must  first  inquire  who 
are  guilty  of  it.     For  this  purpose  let  us  consider, 

What  is  it  to  make  light  of  Christ  and  the  invitations 
of  the  gospel  1 

I  can  think  of  no  plainer  way  to  discover  this,  than  to 
inquire  how  we  treat  those  things  that  we  highly  esteem  j 
and  also  by  way  of  contrast,  how  we  treat  those  things 
which  we  malce  light  of ;  and  hence  we  may   discover 


OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  131 

whether  Christ  and  the  gospel  may  be  ranked  among  the 
things  we  esteem,  or  those  we  disregard. 

I.  Men  are  apt  to  remember  and  affectionately  think 
of  the  things  that  they  highly  esteem  ;  but  as  for  those 
which  they  disregard,  they  can  easily  forget  them,  and 
live  from  day  to  day  without  a  single  thought  about  them 

Now  do  you  often  affectionately  remember  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  do  your  thoughts  affectionately  go  af- 
ter him  \  do  they  pay  him  early  visits  in  the  morning^, 
do  they  make  frequent  excursions  to  him  through  the 
day  1  and  do  you  lie  down  with  him  in  your  hearts  at 
night  1  Is  not  the  contrary  evident  as  to  many  of  you  \ 
Can  you  not  live  from  day  to  day  thoughtless  of  Jesus, 
and  your  everlasting  salvation  1  Recollect  now,  how 
many  affectionate  thoughts  have  you  had  of  these  things 
through  the  week  past,  or  in  this  sacred  morning.  And 
can  you  indeed  highly  esteem  those  things  which  you 
hardly  ever  think  of  1  Follow  your  own  hearts,  Sirs, 
observe  which  way  they  most  naturally  and  freely  run, 
and  then  judge  whether  you  make  light  of  the  gospel  or 
not.  Alas!  we  cannot  persuade  men  to  one  hour's  seri- 
ous consideration  what  they  should  do  for  an  interest  in 
Christ  ;  we  cannot  persuade  them  so  much  as  to  afford 
him  only  their  thoughts,  which  are  such  cheap  things ; 
and  yet  they  will  not  be  convinced  that  they  make  light 
of  Christ.  And  here  lies  the  infatuation  of  sin  ;  it  blinds 
and  befools  men,  so  that  they  do  not  know  what  they 
think  of,  what  they  love,  or  what  they  intend,  much  less 
do  they  know  the  habitual  bent  of  their  souls.  They 
often  imagine  themselves  free  from  those  sins  to  which 
they  are  most  enslaved,  and  particularly  they  think 
themselves  innocent  of  the  crime  of  making  light  of  the 
gospel,  when  this  is  the  very  crime  that  is  likely  to  de- 
stroy them  for  ever. 

II.  The  things  that  men  value,  if  of  such  a  nature  as 
to  admit  of  publication,  will  be  the  frequent  subjects  of 
their  discourse  :  the  thoughts  will  command  the  tongue, 
and  furnish  materials  for  conversation.  But  those 
things  that  they  forget  and  disregard  they  will  not  talk 
of. 

Do  not  they  therefore  make  light  of  Christ  and  salva- 
tion, who  have  no  delight  in  conversing  about  them,  and 
hardly  ever  mention  the  name  of  Christ  but  in  a  trifling 


132  THE    NATURE    JiND    DA.Nf.LK 

or  profane  manner  1  They  do  not  like  the  company 
where  divine  things  are  discoursed  of,  but  think  it  pre 
cise  and  troublesome.  They  had  much  rather  be  enter 
tained  with  humorous  tales  and  idle  stories,  or  talk  about 
the  affairs  of  the  world.  Tkey  are  of  the  world,  says  St. 
John,  therefore  speak  they  of  the  world^  and  the  world  hear- 
eth  them^  1  John  iv.  5.  They  are  in  their  element  in 
such  conversation.  Or  others  may  talk  about  religion  ; 
but  it  is  only  about  the  circumstances  of  it,  as,  "  How 
such  a  man  preached  ;  it  was  a  very  good  or  a  bad  ser- 
mon," &c.,  but  they  care  not  to  enter  into  the  spirit  and 
substance  of  divine  things  ;  and  if  they  speak  of  Christ 
and  experimental  religion,  it  is  in  a  heartless  and  insipid 
manner.  And  do  not  such  make  light  of  the  gospel  1 
and  IS  not  this  the  character  of  many  of  you  1 

III.  Men  make  light  of  those  things,  if  they  are  of  a 
practical  nature,  which  they  only  talk  about,  but  do  not 
reduce  into  practice. 

Christianity  was  intended  not  to  furnish  matter  for 
empty  talkers,  but  to  govern  the  heart  and  practice.  But 
are  there  not  some  that  only  employ  their  tongues  about 
it,  especially  when  their  spirits  are  raised  with  liquor, 
and  then  a  torrent  of  noisy  religion  breaks  from  them. 
Watch  their  lives,  and  you  will  see  little  appearance  of 
Christianity  there.  And  do  not  these  evidently  make 
light  of  Christ,  who  make  him  the  theme  of  their  drunk- 
en conversation,  or  who  seem  to  think  that  God  sent  his 
Son  from  heaven  just  to  set  the  world  a  talking  about 
himl  There  is  nothing  in  nature  that  seems  to  me 
more  abominable  than  this. 

IV.  AYe  take  the  utmost  pains  and  labor  to  secure  the 
things  we  value,  and  cannot  be  easy  while  our  property 
in  them  is  uncertain  ;  but  those  things  that  we  think 
lightly  of  we  care  but  little  whether  they  be  ours  or 
not. 

Therefore,  have  not  such  of  you  made  light  of  Christ 
and  salvation,  Avho  have  lived  twenty  or  thirty  years  un 
certain  whether  you  have  interest  in  him,  and  yet  have 
been  easy  and  contented,  and  take  no  method  to  be  re- 
solved 1  Are  all  that  hear  me  this  day  determined  in 
this  important  question,  "  What  shall  become  of  me 
when  I  die  V  Are  you  all  certain  upon  good  grounds, 
and  after  a  thorough  trial,  that  you  shall  be  saved  \     Oh 


OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.         *  133 

tiat  you  were!  but,  alas!  you  are  not.  And  do  you 
think  you  would  bear  this  uncertainty  about  it,  if  you 
did  not  make  light  of  salvation  1  No  ;  you  would  care- 
fully examine  yourselves  ;  you  would  diligently  peruse 
the  scriptures  to  find  out  the  marks  of  those  that  shall 
be  saved  ;  you  would  anxiously  consult  those  that  could 
direct  you,  and  particularly  pious  ministers,  who  would 
think  it  the  greatest  favor  you  could  do  them  to  devolve 
such  an  oflice  upon  them.  But  now  ministers  may  sit 
in  their  studies  for  a  whole  year,  and  not  ten  persons 
perhaps  in  five  hundred  agreeably  intrude  upon  them  on 
this  important  business. 

Oh,  Sirs,  if  the  gospel  should  pierce  your  hearts  in- 
deed, you  would  but  cry  out  with  the  convicted  Jews, 
Men  and  brethren  what  shall  we  do  to  be  saved  ?  Acts  ii. 
37.  Paul,  when  awakened,  cries  out,  in  a  trembling  con- 
sternation, Lord  I  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?  But 
when  shall  we  hear  such  questions  now-a-days  \ 

V;  The  things  that  men  highly  esteem,  deeply  and 
tenderly  affect  them,  and  excite  some  moixjns  in  their 
hearts  :  but  what  they  make  light  of,  makes  nc  impres- 
sion upon  them. 

And  if  you  did  not  make  light  of  the  gospel,  what 
workings  would  there  be  in  your  hearts  about  it  %  what 
solemn,  tender,  and  vigorous  passion  would  it  raise  in 
you  to  hear  such  things  about  the  world  to  come  !  what 
fear  and  astonishment  would  seize  you  at  the  considera- 
tion of  your  misery ;  what  transports  of  joy  and  grati- 
tude would  you  feel  at  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  by 
the  blood  of  Christ !  what  strong  efficacious  purposes 
Avould  be  raised  in  you  at  the  discovery  of  your  duty ! 
O  what  hearers  should  we  have,  were  it  not  for  this  one 
sin,  the  making  light  of  the  gospel !  whereas  now  we  are 
in  danger  of  wearying  them,  or  preaching  them  asleep 
with  our  most  solemn  discourses  about  this  momen- 
tous affair  1  We  talk  to  them  of  Christ  and  salvation  till 
they  grow  quite  tired  of  this  dull  old  tale,  and  this  fool- 
ishness of  preaching.  Alas  !  little  would  one  think  from 
the  air  of  carelessness,  levity,  apd  inattention  that  ap- 
pears among  them,  that  they  were  hearing  such  weighty 
truths,  or  have  any  concern  in  them. 

VI.  Our  estimate  of  things  may  be  discovered  by  the 
diligence  and  earnestness  of  our  endeavors  about  them 
12 


134  THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER 

Those  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  think  no  pains 
too  great  to  obtain  ;  but  what  we  think  lightly  of  we  use 
no  endeavors  about,  or  we  use  them  in  a  languid,  care- 
less manner. 

And  do  not  they  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation, 
who  do  not  exert  themselves  in  earnest  to  obtain  them, 
and  think  a  great  deal  of  every  little  thing  they  do  in 
religion  \  they  are  still  ready  to  cry  out,  "  What  need 
of  so  much  pains  1  we  hope  to  be  saved  without  so 
much  trouble."  And,  though  these  may  not  be  so  hon- 
est as  to  speak  it  out,  it  is  plain  from  their  temper  and 
practice,  they  grudge  all  the  service  they  do  for  Christ 
as  done  to  a  master  they  do  not  love.  They  love  and  es- 
teem the  world,  and  therefore  for  the  world  they  will 
labor  and  toil  all  day,  and  seem  never  to  think  they  can 
do  too  much  ;  but  for  the  God  that  made  them,  for  the 
Lord  that  bought  them,  and  for  their  everlasting  salva- 
tion, they  seem  afraid  of  taking  too  much  pains.  Let  us 
preach  to  them  as  long  as  we  will,  we  cannot  bring  them 
in  earnest  to  desire  and  pursue  after  holiness.  Follow 
them  to  their  houses,  and  you  will  hardly  ever  find  them 
reading  a  chapter  in  their  Bibles,  or  calling  upon  God 
with  their  families,  so  much  as  once  a  day.  Follow 
them  into  their  retirements,  and  you  will  hear  no  peni- 
tent confessions  of  sin,  no  earnest  cries  for  mercy. 
They  Avill  not  allow  to  God  that  one  day  in  seven  which 
he  has  appropriated  to  his  own  immediate  service,  but 
they  will  steal  and  prostitute  some  even  of  those  sacred 
hours  for  idleness,  for  worldly  conversation,  or  business. 
And  many  of  them  are  so  malignant  in  wickedness,  that 
they  Avill  reproach  and  ridicule  others  that  are  not  so 
made  as  themselves  in  these  respects.  And  is  not  Christ 
worth  seeking  1  Is  not  eternal  salvation  worth  so  much 
trouble  1  Does  not  that  man  make  light  of  these  things 
that  thinks  his  ease  or  carnal  pleasure  of  greater  impor- 
tance!    Let  common  sense  judge. 

Vn.  That  which  we  highly  value  we  think  we  cannot 
buy  too  dear  ;  and  we  are  ready  to  part  with  everything 
that  comes  in  competition  with  it.  The  merchant  that 
found  one  pearl  of  great  price,  sold  all  that  he  had  to 
purchase  it.  Matt.  xiii.  4^,  but  those  things  that  we  make 
light  of,  we  will  not  part  with  things  of  value  for  them. 

Now,  when  Christ  and  the  blessings   of  the  gospeJ 


OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  135 

come  in  competition  with  the  world  and  sinful  pleasures, 
you  may  know  which  you  most  highly  esteem,  by  con- 
sidering which  you  are  most  ready  to  part  with.  You 
are  called  to  part  with  every  thing  that  is  inconsistent 
with  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  yet  many  of  you  will  not 
do  it.  You  are  called  but  to  give  God  his  own,  to  re- 
sign all  to  his  will,  to  let  go  all  those  profits  and  plea- 
sures which  you  must  either  part  with,  or  part  with 
Christ,  and  yet  your  hearts  cling  to  these  things  ;  you 
grasp  them  eagerly,  and  nothing  can  tear  them  from 
you.  You  must  have  your  pleasures,  you  must  keep 
your  credit  in  the  world,  you  must  look  to  your  estates, 
whatever  becomes  of  Christ  and  salvation  ;  as  if  you 
could  live  and  die  better  without  Christ  than  without 
these  things  ;  or  as  if  Christ  could  not  make  you  happy 
without  them.  And  does  not  this  bring  the  matter  to 
an  issue,  and  plainly  show  that  you  make  light  of  Christ 
in  comparison  with  these  things  1  Christ  himself  has 
assured  you,  over  and  over,  that  unless  you  are  willing 
to  part  with  all  for  his  sake, you  cannot  be  his  disciples; 
and  yet,  while  you  have  the  quite  contrary  disposition, 
you  will  pretend  to  be  his  disciples ,  as  if  you  knew  bet- 
ter what  it  is  that  constituted  his  disciples  than  he. 

VIII.  Those  things  which  we  highly  value,  we  shall  be 
for  helping  our  friends  to  obtain. 

Do  not  those,  then,  make  light  of  Christ,  who  do  not 
take  half  so  much  pains  to  help  their  children  to  an  in- 
terest in  him,  as  to  set  them  up  in  credit  in  the  world, 
and  leave  them  large  fortunes  ]  They  supply  the  out- 
ward wants  of  their  families,  but  they  take  little  or  no 
care  about  their  everlasting  salvation — Alas !  Sirs,  the 
neglected,  ignorant,  and  vicious  children  and  servants 
of  such  of  you  can  witness  against  you,  that  you  make 
very  light  of  Christ  and  salvation,  and  their  immortal 
souls. 

IX.  That  which  men  highly  esteem  they  will  so  dili- 
gently pursue,  that  you  may  see  their  regard  for  it  in 
their  endeavors  after  it,  if  it  be  a  matter  within  their 
reach. 

You  may  therefore  see  that  many  make  light  of  the 
gospel  by  the  little  knowledge  they  have  of  it,  after  all 
the  means  of  instruction  with  which  they  have  been  fa- 
vored.    Alas!  where  is  their  improvement  in  holiness' 


136  OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

how  little  do  they  know  of  their  own  hearts,  of  God  and 
Christ,  and  the  world  to  come,  and  what  they  must  do  to 
be  saved !  Ask  them  about  these  things,  and  you  will 
find  them  stujoidly  ignorant ;  and  yet  they  have  so  much 
conceited  knowledge  that  they  will  not  acknowledge  it  j 
or  if  they  do,  they  have  no  better  excuse  than  to  say 
they  are  no  scholars,  or  they  have  a  poor  memory  ;  as 
if  it  required  extensive  learning,  or  a  great  genius  to 
know  the  things  that  are  necessary  to  salvation.  O  !  if 
they  had  not  made  light  of  these  things  ;  if  they  had  be- 
stowed but  half  the  pains  upon  them  which  they  have 
taken  to  understand  matters  of  trade  and  worldly  busi- 
ness, they  would  not  be  so  grossly  ignorant  as  they  are! 
When  men  that  can  learn  the  hardest  trade  in  a  few 
years,  when  men  of  bright  parts,  and  perhaps  consider- 
able learning,  after  living  so  many  years,  are  still  mere 
novices  in  matters  of  religion,  and  do  not  so  much  as 
know  the  terms  of  life  according  to  the  gospel,  is  it  not 
plain  that  they  care  but  little  about  these  things,  and  that 
they  make  light  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  all  his  inestima- 
ble, immortal  blessings  1 

Thus  I  bave  offered  you  sufficient  matter  of  convic- 
tion in  this  affair.  And  what  is  the  result  1  Does  not 
conscience  smite  some  of  you  by  this  time,  and  say,  "1 
am  the  man  that  have  made  light  of  Christ  and  his  gos- 
pel 1"  If  not,  upon  what  evidence  are  you  acquitted  1 
Some  of  you,  I  doubt  not,  can  say,  in  the  integrity  of 
your  hearts,  "  Alas !  I  am  too  careless  about  this  im- 
portant affair,  but  God  knows  I  am  often  deeply  con- 
cerned about  it ;  God  knows  that  if  ever  I  was  in  earnest 
about  any  thing  in  all  my  life,  it  has  been  about  my  ever- 
lasting state  ;  and  there  is  nothing  in  all  the  world 
that  habitually  lies  so  near  my  heart."  But  are  there 
not  some  of  you  whom  conscience  does  not  accuse  ot 
this  crime  of  too  much  carelessness  about  the  gospel, 
not  because  you  are  innocent,  but  because  you  make  so 
very  light  of  it,  that  you  will  make  no  thorough  search 
into  it  1  and  does  not  this  alone  prove  you  guilty  l  I 
beseech  sucli  to  consider  the  folly  of  your  conduct.  Do 
you  then  think  to  excuse  your  crime,  by  being  careless 
whether  you  are  guilty  of  it  or  notl  Can  you  avoid  the 
precipice  by  shutting  your  eyesl  If  you  discover  your 
sin  now,  it    may  be  of  unspeakable  service,  but  if  you 


THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER  137 

now  shut  your  eyes  you  must  see  it  hereafter,  when  it 
will  be  too  late  ;  when  your  conviction  will  be  your 
punishment.  I  beseech  you  also  to  consider  the  dread- 
ful evil  of  your  conduct  in  making  light  of  a  Savior. 
And  here  I  shall  offer  such  arguments  to  expose  its  ag- 
gravations as  I  am  sure  cannot  fail  to  convince  and  aston- 
ish you,  if  you  act  like  men  of  reason  and  understand- 
ing- 

I.  Consider  you  make  light  of  him  who  did  not  make 
light  of  you,  when  you  deserved  his  final  neglect  of  you. 
You  were  worthy  of  nothing  but  contempt  and  abhor- 
rence from  him.  As  a  man  you  are  but  a  worm  to  God, 
and  as  a  sinner  you  are  viler  than  a  toad  or  a  serpent. 
Yet  Christ  was  so  far  from  making  light  of  you,  that  he 
left  his  native  heaven,  became  a  man  of  sorrows,  and 
died  in  the  most  exquisite  agonies,  that  a  way  might  be 
opened  for  the  salvation  of  your  miserable  soul :  and 
can  you  make  light  of  him  after  all  his  regard  to  you  1 
What  miracles  of  love  and  mercy  has  he  sho\^Ti  towards 
you  !  and  can  you  neglect  him  after  all  1  Angels,  who 
are  less  concerned  in  these  things  than  we,  cannot  but 
pry  into  them  with  delightful  Vs^onder,  1  Peter  i.  12,  and 
shall  sinners  who  have  the  most  intimate  personal  con- 
cern in  them,  make  light  of  them  1  This  is  a  crime 
more  than  devilish  ;  for  the  devils  never  had  a  Savior 
offered  to  them,  and  consequently  never  could  despise 
him.  And  can  you  live  in  a  carelessness  of  Christ  all 
your  days,  and  yet  feel  no  remorse  1 

II.  Consider  you  make  light  of  matters  of  the  greatest 
excellency  and  importance  in  all  the  world.  Oh,  sirs, 
you  know  not  what  it  is  that  you  slight ;  had  you  known 
these  things  you  would  not  have  ventured  to  make  light 
of  them  for  ten  thousand  worlds.  As  Christ  said  to  the 
woman  of  Samaria,  If  thou  hadst  known  the  gift  of  God,  and 
who  it  is  that  speaketh  to  thee,  thou  wouldest  have  asked  of 
him  living  water:  John  iv.  13.  Had  the  Jews  known, 
they  would  not  have  crucified  the  Lord  of  Glory  :  1  Cor.  ii. 
8.  So,  had  you  known  what  Jesus  is,  you  would  not 
have  made  light  of  him  ;  he  would  have  been  to  you  the 
most  important  being  in  the  universe.  O  !  had  you  been 
but  one  day  in  heaven,  and  seen  and  felt  the  happiness 
there  !  or  had  you  been  but  one  hour  under  the  agonies 
of  hell,  you  could  never  more  have  trifled  with  salvation. 

12* 


/3S  OF    MAKING    LIGHT   OF    CHRIST. 

Here  I  find  my  thoughts  run  so  naturally  into  the  same 
channel  with  those  of  the  excellent  Mr.  Baxter,  about  a 
hundred  years  ago,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  give  a  long 
quotation  from  him,  that  you  may  see  in  what  light  this 
great  and  good  man  viewed  the  neglected  things  which 
the  gospel  brings  to  your  ears.  His  words  are  these  ; 
and  I  am  sure  to  me  they  have  been  very  weighty : — 

"  O,  sirs,  they  are  no  trifles  or  jesting  matters  that 
the  gospel  speaks  of.  I  must  needs  profess  to  you,  that 
when  I  have  the  most  serious  thoughts  of  these  things, 
I  am  ready  to  wonder  that  such  amazing  matters  do  not 
overwhelm  the  souls  of  men  :  that  the  greatness  of  the 
subject  doth  not  so  overmatch  our  understandings  and 
aflections,  as  even  to  drive  men  beside  themselves,  but 
that  God  hath  always  somewhat  allayed  it  by  distance  ; 
much  more  do  I  wonder  that  men  should  be  so  blockish 
as  to  make  light  of  such  things.  0  Lord,  that  men  did 
but  know  what  everlasting  glory  and  everlasting  torments 
are  !  Would  they  then  hear  us  as  they  do  1  would  they 
read  and  think  of  these  things  as  they  do  1  I  profess  1 
have  been  ready  to  wonder  when  I  have  heard  such 
weight}^  things  delivered,  how  people  can  forbear  crying 
out  in  the  congregation,  and  much  more  do  I  wonder 
how  they  can  rest,  till  they  have  gone  to  their  ministers 
and  learned  what  they  shall  do  to  be  saved,  that  this  great 
business  should  be  put  out  of  doubt.  O  that  heaven  and 
hell  should  work  no  more  upon  men !  O  that  eternity 
should  work  no  more  !  O  how  can  you  forbear  when 
you  are  alone  to  think  Avith  yourselves  what  it  is  to  be 
everlastingly  in  joy  or  torment.  I  wonder  that  such 
thoughts  do  not  break  your  sleep,  and  that  they  do  not 
crowd  into  your  minds  when  you  are  about  your  labor ! 
I  wonder  how  you  can  almost  do  any  thing  else  !  How 
can  you  have  any  quietness  in  your  minds  1  how  can  you 
eat  or  drink,  or  rest,  till  you  have  got  some  ground  of 
everlasting  consolations  1  Is  that  a  man  or  a  corpse  that 
is  not  affected  with  matters  of  this  moment  l  that  can  be 
readier  to  sleep  than  to  tremble,  when  he  hears  how  he 
must  stand  at  the  bar  of  God  1  Is  that  a  man  or  a  clod 
of  clay  that  can  rise  up  and  lie  down  without  being  deep- 
ly affected  with  his  everlasting  state  1  that  can  follow 
his  worldly  Dusincss,  and  make  nothing  of  the  great  bu- 
siness of  salvation  or  damnation,  and  that  when  he  knows 


THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER  139 

it  is  so  hard  at  hand  1  Truly,  sirs,  when  I  think  of  the 
weight  of  the  matter,  I  wonder  at  the  best  saints  upon 
earth,  that  they  are  no  better,  and  do  no  more  in  so 
weighty  a  case.  I  wonder  at  those  whom  the  world  ac- 
counts more  holy  than  needs,  and  scorns  for  making  too 
much  ado,  that  they  can  put  ofi'  Christ  and  their  souls 
'vith  so  little  j  that  they  do  not  pour  out  their  souls  in 
every  prayer  ;  that  they  are  not  more  taken  up  with  God  ; 
that  their  thoughts  are  not  more  serious  in  preparation 
for  their  last  account.  I  wonder  that  they  are  not  a 
thousand  times  more  strict  in  their  lives,  and  more  labo- 
rious and  unwearied  for  the  crown  than  they  are.  And 
for  myself,  (says  that  zealous,  flaming,  and  indefatigable 
preacher,)  as  I  am  ashamed  of  my  dull  and  careless 
heart,  and  of  my  slow  and  unprofitable  course  of  life,  so 
the  Lord  knows  I  am  ashamed  of  every  sermon  that  I 
preach :  when  I  think  what  I  am,  and  who  sent  me,  and 
how  much  the  salvation  and  damnation  of  men  is  con- 
cerned in  it,  I  am  ready  to  tremble,  lest  God  should 
judge  me  as  a  slighter  of  his  truth  and  the  souls  of  men, 
and  lest,  in  my  best  sermon,  I  should  be  guilty  of  their 
blood.  Methinks  we  should  not  speak  a  word  to  men  in 
matters  of  such  consequence  without  tears,  or  the  great- 
est earnestness  that  possibly  we  can.  Were  we  not  too 
much  guilty  of  the  sin  which  we  reprove,  it  would  be  so. 
Whether  we  are  alone  or  in  company,  methinks  our  end, 
and  such  an  end,  should  still  be  in  our  mind,  and  as  be- 
fore our  eyes  ;  and  we  should  sooner  forget  any  thing,  or 
set  light  by  any  thing,  or  by  all  things,  tlian  by  this." 

And  now,  my  brethren,  if  such  a  man  as  this  viewed 
these  things  in  this  light,  O  what  shall  we,  we  languish- 
ing careless  creatures,  what  shall  we  think  of  ourselves  1 
Into  what  a  dead  sleep  are  we  fallen !  O  let  the  most 
active  and  zealous  among  us  awake,  and  be  a  thousand 
times  more  earnest :  and  ye  frozen-hearted,  careless  sin- 
ners, for  God's  sake  awake,  and  exert  yourselves  to 
good  purpose  in  the  pursuit  of  salvation,  or  you  are  lost 
to  all  eternity. 

III.  Consider  whose  salvation  it  is  you  make  light  of. 
It  is  your  own.  And  do  you  not  care  what  becomes  of 
your  own  selves  1  Is  it  nothing  to  you  whether  you  are 
saved  or  damned  for  ever  1  Is  the  natural  principle  of 
self-love  extinct  in  you  1    Have  you  no  concern  for  your 


140  OF    MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

own  preservation '?  Are  you  commenced  your  own 
enemies  1  If  you  slight  Christ  and  love  sin,  you  vir- 
tually love  death,  Prov.  viii.  36.  You  may  as  well  say, 
"  I  will  live  and  yet  neither  eat  nor  drink,"  as  say,  "  I 
will  go  to  heaven,  and  yet  make  light  of  Christ."  And 
ycu  may  as  well  say  this  in  words  as  by  your  practice. 

IV.  Consider  your  sin  is  aggravated  by  professing  to 
believe  that  gospel  which  you  make  light  of.  For  a  pro- 
fessed infidel  that  does  not  believe  the  Scripture-revela- 
tion concerning  Christ  and  a  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments,  for  such  a  one  to  be  careless  about  these 
things  would  not  be  so  strange  ;  but  for  you  that  make 
these  things  your  creed,  and  a  part  of  your  religion,  for 
j'ou  that  call  yourselves  Christians,  and  have  been  bap- 
tized into  this  faith ;  for  you,  I  say,  to  make  light  of 
them,  how  astonishing  !  how  utterly  inexcusable  ! 
What !  believe  that  you  shall  live  for  ever  in  the  most 
perfect  happiness  or  exquisite  misery,  and  yet  take  no 
more  pains  to  obtain  the  one,  and  escape  the  other  1 
What  !  believe  that  the  great  and  dreadful  God  will 
shortly  be  your  judge,  and  yet  make  no  more  prepara- 
tion for  it  1  Either  say  plainly,  "  I  am  no  Christian,  I 
do  not  believe  these  things  ;"  or  else  let  your  hearts  be 
affected  with  your  belief,  and  let  it  influence  and  govern 
your  lives. 

V.  Consider  what  those  things  are  which  engross  your 
aiTections,  and  which  tempt  you  to  neglect  Christ  and 
your  salvation.  Have  you  found  out  a  better  friend,  or 
a  more  substantial  and  lasting  happiness  than  his  salva- 
tion 1  0  !  what  trifles  and  vanities,  what  dreams  and 
shadows  are  men  pursuing,  while  they  neglect  the  im- 
portant realities  of  the  eternal  world  !  If  crowns  and 
kingdoms,  if  all  the  riches,  glories,  and  pleasures  of  the 
world  were  ensured  to  you  as  a  reward  for  making  light 
of  Christ,  you  would  even  then  make  the  most  foolish 
bargain  possible  ;  for  what  arc  these  in  the  scale  to  eter- 
nal joy  or  eternal  tempest  1  and  what  shall  it  profit  a 
man  if  he  gain  even  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  ow?i 
soul  1  Matt.  xvi.  26.  But  you  cannot  hope  for  the  ten 
thousandth  part :  and  will  you  cast  away  your  souls  for 
this  \  You  that  think  it  such  a  greu:  thing  to  live  in 
riches,  pleasures,  and  honors,  consider,  is  it  such  h 
mighty  happiness  to  die  rich  %  to  die  after  a  life  of  plea 


THE  NATURE  AND  DANGER  141 

Bure  and  honor  1  Will  it  be  such  a  great  happiness  to 
give  an  account  for  the  life  of  a  rich  sensualist,  rather 
than  of  a  poor  mortified  creature  1  Will  Dives  then  he 
so  much  happier  than  Lazarus  1  Alas !  what  does  the 
richest,  the  highest,  the  most  voluptuous  sinner,  what 
does  he  do,  but  lay  up  treasures  of  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath  1  O  how  will  the  unhappy  creatures  torture 
themselves  for  ever  with  the  most  cutting  reflections  for 
selling  their  Savior  and  their  souls  for  such  trifles ! 
Let  your  sins  and  earthly  enjoyments  save  you  then,  if 
they  can  ;  let  them  then  do  that  for  you  which  Christ 
would  have  done  for  you  if  you  had  chosen  him.  Then 
go  and  cry  to  the  gods  you  have  chosen  ;  let  them  de- 
liver you  in  the  day  of  your  tribulation. 

VL  Your  making  light  of  Christ  and  salvation  is  a 
certain  evidence  that  you  have  no  interest  in  them. — 
Christ  will  not  throve  himself  and  his  blessings  away 
upon  those  who  do  not  value  them.  "  Those  that  honor 
him  he  will  honor  ;  but  they  that  despise  him  shall  be 
lightly  esteemed^"  1  Sam.  ii.  30.  There  is  a  day  com- 
ing, when  you  will  feel  you  cannot  do  without  him  ; 
when  you  will  feel  yourselves  perishing  for  w^ant  of  a 
Savior  ;  and  then  you  may  go  and  look  for  a  Savior 
where  you  will  ;  then  may  you  shift  for  yourselves  as 
you  can ;  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  wdth  you  ;  the  Sa- 
vior of  sinners  will  cast  you  off  for  ever.  1  tell  you, 
Sirs,  w^hatever  estimate  you  form  of  all  these  things, 
God  thinks  very  highly  of  the  blood  of  his  Son,  and  the 
blessings  of  his  purchase  ;  and  if  ever  you  obtain  them, 
he  w411  have  you  think  highly  of  them  too.  If  you  con- 
tinue to  make  light  of  them,  all  the  world  cannot  save 
you.  And  can  you  find  fault  with  God  for  denying  you 
that  which  w^as  so  little  in  your  account  1 

VIL  And  lastly,  the  time  is  hastening  when  you  will 
not  think  so  slightly  of  Christ  and  salvation.  O,  Sirs, 
when  God  shall  commission  death  to  tear  your  guilty 
souls  out  of  your  bodies,  when  devils  shall  drag  you 
away  to  the  place  of  torment,  w^hen  you  find  yourselves 
condemned  to  everlasting  fire  by  that  Savior  whom  you 
now  neglect,  what  would  you  then  give  for  a  Savior  1 
when  divine  justice  brings  in  its  heavy  charges  against 
you,  and  you  have  nothing  to  answer,  how  will  you  then 
cry,  "  O  if  I  had  chosen  Jesus  for  my  Savior,  he  would 


142  DAJNGER    OF    MAKIKG    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

have  answered  all !"  When  you  see  that  the  world  has 
deserted  you,  that  your*  companions  in  sin  have  deceived 
themselves  and  you,  and  all  your  merry  days  are  over 
for  ever,  would  you  not  then  give  ten  thousand  worlds 
for  Christ  1  And  will  you  not  now  think  him  worthy  of 
your  esteem  and  earnest  pursuit  1  Why  will  ye  judge 
of  things  now  quite  the  reverse  of  what  you  will  do  then 
when  you  will  be  more  capable  of  judging  rightly  1 

And  now,  dear  immortal  souls  !  I  have  discovered  the 
nature  and  danger  of  this  common  but  unsuspected  and 
unlamented  sin,  making  light  of  Christ.    I  have  delivered 
my  message,  and  now  I  must  leave  it  with  you,  implor- 
ing the  blessing  of  God  upon  it.     I  cannot  follow  you 
home  to  your  houses  to  see  what  effect  it  has  upon  you, 
or  to  make  application  of  it  to  each  of  you  in  particular  ; 
but    0   may   your   consciences   undertake   this    office ! 
Whenever  you  spend  another   prayerless,   thoughtless 
day,  whenever  you  give  yourselves  up  to  sinful  pleasures, 
or  an  over-eager  pursuit  of  the  world,   may  your  con- 
science become  your  preacher,  and  sting  you  with  this 
expostulation :  "  Alas  !  is  this  the  effect   of  all  I  have 
heard  ]  Do  I  still  make  light  of  Christ  and  the  concerns 
of  religion  1    Oh  what  will  be  the  end  of  such  conduct !" 
I  cannot  but  fear,  after  all,  that  some  of  you,  as  usual, 
will  continue  careless  and  impenitent.     Well,  when  you 
are  suffering  the  punishment  of  this  sin  in  hell,  remem- 
ber that  you  were  warned,  and  acquit  me  from  being  ac- 
cessary to  your   ruin.     And  when  we  all  appear  before 
the  supreme  Judge,  and  I  am  called  to  give  an  account 
of  my  ministry  :  when  I  am  asked,  "  Did  you  warn  these 
creatures  of  their  danger  1  Did  you  lay  before  them  their 
guilt   in  making  light  of  these  things  1  "  you  will  allow 
me  to  answer,  "  Yes,  Lord,  I  warned  them   in  the  best 
manner  I  could,  but  they  would  not  believe  me  ;  they 
would   not  regard  what  I  said,  though  enforced  by  the 
authority  of  thy  awful  name,   and  confirmed  by  thine 
own  word."     O    sirs,    must   I    give    in   this   accusation 
against  any  of  you  1    No,  rather  have  mercy  upon  your 
selves,  and  have  mercy  upon  me,  that  I  may  give  an  ac 
count  of  you  with  joy,  and  not  with  grief. 


THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST.  143 

SERMON  V. 

THE  COMPASSION  OF  CHRIST  TO  WEAK  BELIEVERS. 

BIatt.  xii.   20.     A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  hrenk^  and 
smoking  jlax  shall  he  not  quench. 

Tin:  Lord   Jesus   possesses  all  those   virtues  in  the 
highest  perfection,  which  render  him  infinitely  amiable, 
and  qualify  him  for  the  administration  of  a  just  and  grn- 
cious  government  over  the  world.     The  virtues  of  mor 
tals,  when  carried  to  a  high  degree,  very  often  run  into 
those   vices  which   have   a   kind    of  affinity   to    them. 
"Right,  too  rigid,  hardens  into  wrong."     Strict  justice 
steels  itself  into  excessive  severity  ;  and  the  man  is  lost 
in  the  judge.     Goodness  and  mercy  sometimes  degen- 
erate  into  softness  and  an  irrational  compassion  incon- 
sistent  with  government.     But    in  Jesus  Christ  these 
seemingly  opposite  virtues  centre  and  harmonize  in  the 
highest    perfection,    without    running    into    extremes. 
Hence  he  is  at  once  characterized  as  a  Lamb,  and  as  the 
Lion   of  the  tribe  of  Judah :  a  lamb  for  gentleness  to- 
wards humble  penitents,  and  a  lion  to  tear  his  enemies 
in  pieces.    Christ  is  said  to  judge  and  inake  war,  Rev.  xix. 
11 J  and  yet  he  is  called  The  Prince  of  Peace  ;  Isa.  ix.  6. 
He  will  at  length   show  himself  terrible  to  the  workers 
of  iniquity  ;  and  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  are  a  very  pro- 
per topic  whence  to  persuade  men ;  but  now  he  is  pa- 
tient towards  all  men,  and  he  is  all  love  and  tenderness 
towards  the  meanest  penitent.     The  meekness  and  gen- 
tleness of  Christ  is  to  be  the  pleasing  entertainment  of 
this  day  j  and   I  enter  upon  it  with  a  particular  view  to 
those   mourning,    desponding    souls   among    us,   whose 
weakness  renders  them  in  great  need  of  strong  consola- 
tion.    To  such,  in  particular,  I  address  the  words  of  my 
text,  A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break,  and  smoking  Jlax 
shall  he  not  quench. 

This  is  a  part  of  the  Redeemer's  character,  as  deline- 
ated near  three  thousand  years  ago,  by  the  evangelical 
prephet  Isaiah  ;  Isa.  xlii.  1 — 4  ;  and  it   is  expressly  ap- 
plied to  him  by  St.  Matthew :  Behold,  says  the  Father, 
Servant  whom  I  have  chosen  for  the  important  under- 


144  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHEIST 

taking  of  saving  the  guilty  sons  of  men  ;  "  my  Beloved, 
in  whom  my  soul  is  well  pleased  ; "  my  very  soul  is  well 
pleased  with  his  faithful  discharge  of  the  important  office 
he  has  undertaken.  I  will  jput  my  Spirit  upon  him  ;  that 
is,  I  will  completely  furnish  him  by  the  gifts  of  my  spirit 
for  his  high  character;  and  he  shall  show  judgment  to 
the  Gentiles  ;  to  the  poor  benighted  Gentiles  he  shall 
show  the  light  of  salvation,  by  revealing  the  gospel  to 
them;  which,  in  the  style  of  the  Old  Testament,  maybe 
called  his  judgments.  Or,  he  will  show  and  execute  the 
judgment  of  this  world  by  casting  out  its  infernal  prince, 
who  had  so  long  exercised  an  extensive  cruel  tyranny 
over  it.  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry^  neither  shall  any  man 
hear  his  voice  in  the  streets  ;  that  is,  though  he  enters  the 
world  as  a  mighty  prince  and  conqueror,  to  establish  a 
kingdom  of  righteousness,  and  overthrow  the  kingdom 
of  darkness,  yet  he  will  not  introduce  it  w^ith  the  noisy 
terrors  and  thunders  of  war,  but  shall  show  himself  mild 
and  gentle  as  the  prince  of  peace.  Or  the  connection 
may  lead  us  to  understand  these  words  in  a  different 
sense,  namely.  He  shall  do  nothing  with  clamorous  osten- 
tation, nor  proclaim  his  wonderful  works,  when  it  shall 
answer  no  valuable  end.  Accordingly  the  verse  of  our 
text  stands  thus  connected :  Great  multitudes  followed 
him  ;  and  he  healed  them  all,  and  charged  them  that  they 
should  not  make  him  known.  That  it  might  he  fulfilled 
which  was  spokeii  by  Isaiah  the  prophet,  saying, — He  shall 
not  cry,  neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  streets  ; 
that  is,  he  shall  not  publish  his  miracles  with  noisy  tri- 
umph in  the  streets  and  other  public  places.  And  when 
it  is  said.  He  shall  not  strive,  it  may  refer  to  his  inoffen- 
sive passive  behavior  towards  his  enemies  that  were 
plotting  his  death.  For  thus  we  may  connect  this  quo- 
tation from  Isaiah  with  the  preceding  history  in  the  chap- 
ter of  our  text :  Then  the  Pharisees  went  out,  and  held  a 
council  against  him,  how  they  might  destroy  him.  But 
when  Jesus  knew  it,  instead  of  praying  to  his  Father  for 
a  guard  of  angels,  or  employing  his  own  miraculous 
power  to  destroy  them,  he  withdrew  himself  from  thence  ; 
that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  by  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  saying — He  shall  not  strive. 

The  general  meaning  of  my  text  seems  to  be  contain- 
ed in  this  observation  ;  "  That  the  Lord  Jesus  has  the 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  14& 

tenderest  and  most  compassionate  regard  to  the  fee- 
blest penitent,  however  oppressed  and  desponding  ;  and 
that  he  will  approve  and  cherish  the  least  spark  of  true 
love  towards  himself. 

A  bruised  reed  seems  naturally  to  represent  a  soul 
at  once  feeble  in  itself,  and  crushed  with  a  burden  ;  a 
soul  both  weak  and  oppressed.  The  reed  is  a  slender, 
frail  vegetable  in  itself,  and  therefore  a  very  proper  im- 
age to  represent  a  soul  that  is  feeble  and  weak.  A  bruis- 
ed reed  is  still  more  frail,  hangs  its  head,  and  is  unable 
to  stand  without  some  prop.  And  what  can  be  a  more 
lively  emblem  of  a  poor  soul,  not  only  weak  in  itself,  but 
bowed  down  and  broken  under  a  load  of  sin  and  sorrow, 
that  droops  and  sinks,  and  is  unable  to  stand  without  di- 
vine support  1  Strength  may  bear  up  under  a  burden, 
or  struggle  with  it,  till  it  has  thrown  it  off;  but  op- 
pressed weakness,  frailty  under  a  burden,  what  can  be 
more  pitiable  1  and  yet  this  is  the  case  of  many  a  poor 
penitent.  He  is  weak  in  himself,  and  in  the  mean  time 
crushed  under  a  heavy  weight  of  guilt  and  distress. 

And  what  would  become  of  such  a  frail  oppressed 
creature,  if,  instead  of  raising  him  up  and  supporting 
him,  Jesus  should  tread  and  crush  him  under  the  foot  of 
his  indignation  1  But  though  a  reed,  especially  a  bruis- 
ed reed,  is  an  insignificant  thing,  of  little  or  no  use,  yet 
"  a  bruised  reed  he  will  not  break,"  but  he  raises  it  up 
with  a  gentle  hand,  and  enables  it  to  stand,  though  weak 
in  itself,  and  easily  crushed  in  ruin. 

Perhaps  the  imagery,  when  drawn  at  length,  may  be 
this:  "The  Lord  Jesus  is  an  Almighty  Conqueror, 
marches  in  state  through  our  world  ;  and  here  and  there 
a  bruised  reed  lies  in  his  way.  But  instead  of  disregard- 
ing it,  or  trampling  it  under  foot,  he  takes  care  not  to 
break  it :  he  raises  up  the  drooping  straw,  trifling  as  it 
is,  and  supports  it  with  his  gentle  hand."  Thus,  poor 
broken-hearted  penitents,  thus  he  takes  care  of  you,  and 
supports  you,  worthless  and  trifling  as  you  are.  Though 
you  seem  to  lie  in  the  way  of  his  justice,  and  it  might 
tread  you  with  its  heavy  foot,  yet  he  not  only  does  not 
crush  you,  but  takes  you  up,  and  inspires  you  with 
strength  to  bear  your  burden  and  flourish  again. 

Or  perhaps  the    imagery   may  be  derived   from  the 
practice  of  the  ancient  shepherd?;,  who  were    wont  to 
13 


146  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST 

amuse  themselves  with  the  music  of  a  pipe  of  reed  or 
straw  ;  and  when  it  was  hruised  they  broke  it,  or  threw 
it  away  as  useless.  But  the  bruised  reed  shall  not  be 
broken  by  this  divine  Shepherd  of  souls.  The  music  of 
broken  sighs  and  groans  is  indeed  all  that  the  broken 
reed  can  afford  him  :  the  notes  are  but  low,  melancholy, 
and  jarring  :  and  yet  he  will  not  break  the  instrument, 
but  he  will  repair  and  tune  it,  till  it  is  fit  to  join  in  the 
concert  of  angels  on  high  ;  and  even  now  its  humble 
strains  are  pleasing  to  his  ears.  Surely  every  broken 
heart  among  us  must  revive,  while  contemplating  this 
tender  and  moving  imagery. 

The  other  emblem  is  equally  significant  and  affecting. 
The  smoking  jiax  shall  he  not  quench.  It  seems  to  be  an  al- 
lusion to  the  wick  of  a  candle  or  lamp,  the  flame  of  which 
is  put  out,  but  it  still  smokes,  and  retains  a  little  fire  which 
may  be  again  blown  into  a  flame,  or  rekindled  by  the  ap- 
plication of  more  fire.  Many  such  dying  snuffs  or  smok- 
ing wicks  are  to  be  found  in  the  candlesticks  of  the  church- 
es, and  in  the  lamps  of  the  sanctuary.  The  flame  of  divine 
love  is  just  expiring,  it  is  sunk  into  the  socket  of  a  cor- 
rupt heart,  and  produces  no  clear  steady  blaze,  but  only 
a  smoke  that  is  disagreeable,  although  it  shows  that  a 
spark  of  the  sacred  fire  yet  remains  ;  or  it  produces  a 
faint  quivering  flame  that  dies  away,  then  catches  and 
revives,  and  seems  unwilling  to  be  quenched  entirely. 
The  devil  and  the  world  raise  many  storms  of  temptation 
to  blow  it  out ;  and  a  corrupt  heart,  like  a  fountain,  pours 
out  water  to  quench  it.  But  even  this  smoking  flax,  this 
dying  snuff,  Jesus  will  not  quench,  but  he  blows  it  up 
into  a  flame,  and  pours  in  the  oil  of  his  grace  to  recruit 
and  nourish  it.  He  walks  among  the  golden  candlesticks, 
and  trims  the  lamps  of  his  sanctuary.  Where  he  finds 
empty  vessels  without  oil  or  a  spark  of  heavenly  fire, 
like  those  of  the  foolish  virgins,  he  breaks  the  vessels,  or 
throws  them  out  of  his  house.  But  where  he  finds  the 
least  spark  of  true  grace,  where  he  discovers  but  tho 
glimpse  of  sincere  love  to  him,  where  he  sees  the  princi- 
ple of  true  piety,  which,  though  just  expiring,  yet  ren- 
ders the  heart  susceptive  of  divine  love,  as  a  candle  just 
put  out  is  easily  rekindled,  there  he  will  strengthen  the 
things  which  remain  and  are  ready  to  die  :  he  will  blow 
up  the  dying  snufl^to  a  lively  flame,  and  cause  it  to  shine 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  147 

brighter  and  brighter  to  the  perfect  day.  Where  there, 
is  the  least  principle  of  true  holiness  he  will  cherish  it. 
He  Avill  furnish  the  expiring  lamp  with  fresh  supplies  of 
the  oil  of  grace,  and  of  heavenly  fire  ;  and  all  the  storms 
that  beat  upon  it  shall  not  be  able  to  put  it  out,  because 
sheltered  by  his  hand. 

I  hope,  my  dear  brethren,  some  of  you  begin  already 
to  feel  the  pleasing  energy  of  this  text.  Are  you  not 
ready  to  say,  "  Blessed  Jesus !  is  this  thy  true  charac- 
ter 1  Then  thou  art  just  such  a  Savior  a  I  want,  and  I 
most  willingly  give  up  myself  to  thee."  You  are  sensi- 
ble you  are  at  best  but  a  bruised  reed,  a  feeble,  shatter- 
ed, useless  thing  :  an  untuneable,  broken  pipe  of  straw, 
that  can  make  no  proper  music  for  the  entertainment  of 
your  divine  Shepherd.  Your  heart  is  at  best  but  smok- 
ing flax,  where  the  love  of  God  often  appears  like  a  dy- 
ing snuff;  or  an  expiring  flame  that  quivers  and  catches, 
and  hovers  over  the  lamp,  just  ready  to  go  out.  Such 
some  of  you  probably  feel  yourselves  to  be.  Well,  and 
what  think  ye  of  Christ  1  "  He  will  not  break  the  bruis- 
ed reed,  nor  quench  the  smoking  flax  ;"  and  therefore, 
may  not  even  your  guilty  eyes  look  to  this  gentle  Savior 
with  encouraging  hope  1  May  you  not  say  to  him,  with 
the  sweet  singer  of  Israel,  in  his  last  moments,  He  is  all 
my  salvation^  and  all  my  desire.     2  Sani.  xxiii.  5. 

In  prosecuting  this  subject  I  intend  to  illustrate  the 
character  of  a  weak  believer,  as  represented  in  my  text, 
and  then  to  illustrate  the  care  and  compassion  of  Jesus 
Christ  even  for  such  a  poor  weakling. 

I.  I  am  to  illustrate  the  character  of  a  weak  believer, 
as  represented  in  my  text,  by  "  a  bruised  reed,  and  smok- 
ing flax." 

The  metaphor  of  a  bruised  reed,  as  I  observed,  seem." 
most  naturally  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  state  of  weak- 
ness and  oppression.  And,  therefore,  in  illustrating  it 
I  am  naturally  led  to  describe  the  various  weaknesses 
which  a  believer  sometimes  painfully  feels,  and  to  point 
out  the  heavy  burdens  which  he  sometimes  groans  under  ; 
I  say  sometimes,  for  at  other  times  even  the  weak  believer 
finds  himself  strong,  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power 
of  his  might,  and  strengthened  with  might  by  the  Spirit  in 
the  inner  man.  The  joy  of  the  Lord  is  his  strength  : 
and  he  "  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening 


J  4-8  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST 

him."  Even  the  oppressed  believer  at  times  feels  him- 
self delivered  from  his  burden,  and  he  can  lift  up  his 
drooping  head,  and  walk  upright.  But,  alas !  the  bur- 
den returns,  and  crushes  him  again.  And  under  some 
burden  or  other  many  honest-hearted  believers  groan 
out  the  most  part  of  their  lives. 

Let  us  now  see  what  are  those  wccdcnesses  which  a 
believer  feels  and  laments.  He  finds  himself  weak  in 
knowledge  ;  a  simple  child  in  the  knowledge  of  God  and 
divine  things.  He  is  weak  in  love  ;  the  sacred  flame 
does  not  rise  with  a  perpetual  fervor,  and  diffuse  itself 
through  all  his  devotions,  but  at  times  it  languishes  and 
dies  away  into  a  smoking  snuff*.  He  is  weak  in  faith ; 
he  cannot  keep  a  strong  hold  of  the  Almighty,  cannot 
suspend  his  all  upon  his  promises  with  cheerful  confi- 
dence, nor  build  a  firm,  immoveable  fabric  of  hope  upon 
the  rock  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  weak  in  hope  ;  his  hope  is 
dashed  with  rising  billows  of  fears  and  jealousies,  and 
sometimes  just  overset.  He  is  weak  in  joy ;  he  can- 
not extract  the  sweets  of  Christianity,  nor  taste  the  com- 
forts of  his  religion.  He  is  weak  in  zeal  for  God  and 
the  interests  of  his  kingdom ;  he  would  wish  himself 
always  a  flaming  seraph,  always  glowing  with  zeal,  al- 
ways unwearied  in  serving  his  God,  and  promoting  the 
designs  of  redeeming  love  in  the  world  ;  but,  alas  !  at 
times  his  zeal,  with  his  love,  languishes  and  dies  away 
into  a  smoking  snuff*.  He  is  weak  in  repentance  ;  trou- 
bled with  that  plague  of  plagues,  a  hard  heart.  He  is 
weak  in  the  conflict  with  indwelling  sin,  that  is  perpetu- 
ally making  insurrections  within  him.  He  is  weak  in 
resisting  temptations ;  which  crowd  upon  him  from  with- 
out, and  are  often  likely  to  overwhelm  him.  He  is  weak 
in  courage  to  encounter  the  king  of  terrors,  and  venture 
through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  He  is  weak 
in  prayer,  in  importunity,  in  filial  boldness,  in  approach- 
ing the  mercy-seaL  He  is  weak  in  abilities  to  endeavor 
tlie  conversion  of  sinners  and  save  souls  from  death.  In 
sliort,  he  is  weak  in  every  thing  in  which  he  should  be 
strong.  He  has  indeed,  like  the  church  of  Philadelphia, 
a  little  strength,  Rev.  iii.  8,  and  at  times  he  feels  it ; 
but  Oh  !  it  seems  to  him  much  too  little  for  the  work  he 
has  to  do.  These  weaknesses  or  defects  the  believer 
feels,  painfully  and  tenderly  feels,  and  bitterly  laments 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  149 

A  sense  of  them  keeps  him  upon  his  guard  against  temp- 
tations :  he  is  not  venturesome  in  rushing  into  the  com- 
bat. He  would  not  parley  with  temptation,  but  Avould 
keep  out  of  its  way ;  nor  would  he  run  the  risk  of  a  de- 
feat by  an  ostentatious  experiment  of  his  strength.  This 
sense  of  weakness  also  keeps  him  dependent  upon 
divine  strength.  He  clings  to  that  support  given  to  St. 
Paul  in  an  hour  of  hard  conflict,  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee  ;  for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness  ;  and 
when  a  sense  of  his  weakness  has  this  happy  efllect  upon 
him,  then  with  St.  Paul  he  has  reason  to  say,  When  I  am 
weak,  then  am  I  strong.    2  Cor.  xii.  9,  10. 

I  say  the  believer  feels  and  laments  these  weaknesses  ; 
and  this  is  the  grand  distinction  in  this  case  between 
him  and  the  rest  of  the  world.  They  are  the  weak  too, 
much  weaker  than  he  ;  nay,  they  have,  properly,  no  spirit- 
ual strength  at  all ;  but,  alas !  they  do  not  feel  their 
t\'eakness,  but  the  poor  vain  creatures  boast  of  their 
strength,  and  think  they  can  do  great  things  when  they 
are  disposed  for  them.  Or  if  their  repeated  falls  and 
defeats  by  temptation  extort  them  to  a  confession  of 
their  weakness,  they  plead  it  rather  as  an  excuse,  than 
lament  it  as  at  once  a  crime  and  a  calamity.  But  the 
poor  believer  tries  no  such  artifice  to  extenuate  his 
guilt.  He  is  sensible  that  even  his  weakness  itself  has 
guilt  in  it,  and  therefore  he  laments  it  with  ingenuous 
sorrow  among  his  other  sins. 

Now%  have  I  not  delineated  the  very  character  of  some 
of  you  ;  such  weaklings,  such  frail  reeds  you  feel  your- 
selves to  be  1  Well,  hear  this  kind  assurance,  "Jesus 
will  not  break  such  a  feeble  reed,  but  he  will  support  and 
strengthen  it." 

But  you  perhaps  not  only  feel  you  are  weak,  but  you 
are  oppressed  with  som.e  heavy  burden  or  other.  You 
are  not  only  a  reed  for  weakness,  but  you  are  a  bruised 
reed,  trodden  under  foot,  crushed  under  a  load.  Even 
this  is  no  unusual  or  discouraging  case ;  for. 

The  weak  believer  often  feels  himself  crushed  under 
some  heavy  burden.  The  frail  reed  is  often  bruised ; 
bruised  under  a  due  sense  of  guilt.  Guilt  lies  heavy 
at  times  upon  his  conscience,  and  he  cannot  throw  it  ofl. 
Bruised  with  a  sense  of  remaining  sin,  which  he  finds 
still  strong  within  him,  and  which  at  times  prevails,  and 
13* 


loO  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST 

treads  him  under  foot.  Bruised  under  a  burden  of  wants, 
the  want  of  tenderness  of  heart,  of  ardent  love  to  God 
raid  mankind,  the  want  of  heavenly-mindedness  and  vic- 
tory over  the  world ;  the  want  of  conduct  and  resolu- 
tion to  direct  his  behavior  in  a  passage  so  intricate  and 
difficult,  and  the  want  of  nearer  intercourse  with  the 
Father  and  his  Spirit :  in  short,  a  thousand  pressing 
wants  crush  and  bruise  him.  He  also  feels  his  share  of 
the  calamities  of  life  in  common  with  other  men.  But 
these  burdens  I  shall  take  no  farther  notice  of,  because 
they  are  not  peculiar  to  him  as  a  believer,  nor  do  they 
lie  heaviest  upon  his  heart.  He  could  easily  b-ear  up 
under  the  calamities  of  life  if  his  spiritual  wants  were 
supplied,  and  the  burden  of  guilt  and  sin  were  removed. 
Under  these  last  he  groans  and  sinks.  Indeed  these  bur- 
dens lie  with  all  their  full  weight  upon  the  world  around 
him  ;  but  they  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  and  feel 
them  not:  they  do  not  groan  under  them,  nor  labor  for 
deliverance  from  them.  They  lie  contented  under  them, 
with  more  stupidity  than  beasts  of  burden,  till  they  sink 
under  the  intolerable  load  into  the  depth  of  misery.  But 
the  poor  believer  is  not  so  stupid,  and  his  tender  heart 
feels  the  burden  and  groans  under  it.  We  that  are  inthis 
tabernacle^  says  St.  Paul,  do  groan,  being  burdened,  2  Cor. 
V.  4.  The  believer  understands  feelingly  that  pathetic 
exclamation,  0  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  Who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death  1  Rom.  vii.  24.  He 
cannot  be  easy  till  his  conscience  is  appeased  by  a 
well-attested  pardon  through  the  blood  of  Christ ;  and 
the  sins  he  feels  working  within  him  are  a  real  burden 
and  uneasiness  to  him,  though  they  should  never  break 
out  into  action,  and  publicly  dishonor  his  holy  profession. 

And  is  not  this  the  very  character  of  some  poor  op- 
pressed creatures  among  you  \  I  hope  it  is.  You  may 
look  upon  your  case  to  be  very  discouraging,  but  Jesus 
looks  upon  it  in  a  more  favorable  light ;  he  looks  upon 
you  as  proper  objects  of  his  compassionate  care.  Bruis- 
ed as  you  are,  he  will  bind  up,  and  support  you. 

II.  I3ut  I  proceed  to  take  a  view  of  the  character  of  a 
weak  Christian,  as  represented  in  the  other  metaphor  in 
my  text,  namely,  smoking  flax.  The  Idea  most  naturally 
conveyed  by  this  metaphor  is,  that  of  grace  true  and 
sincere,  but  languishing  and  just  expiring,  like  a  candle 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  15 

just  blown  out,  which  still  smokes  and  retains  a  feeble 
spark  of  fire.  It  signifies  a  susceptibility  of  a  farther 
grace,  or  a  readiness  to  catch  that  sacred  fire,  as  a  can- 
dle just  put  out  is  easily  re-kindled.  This  metaphor 
therefore  leads  me  to  describe  the  reality  of  religion  in  a 
low  degree,  or  to  delineate  the  true  Christian  in  his  most 
languishing  hours.  And  in  so  doing  I  shall  mention 
those  dispositions  and  exercises  which  the  weakest 
Christian  feels,  even  in  these  melancholy  seasons  ;  for 
even  in  these  he  widely  differs  still  from  the  most  po- 
lished hypocrite  in  his  highest  improvements.  On  this 
subject  let  me  solicit  your  most  serious  attention  5  for, 
if  you  have  the  least  spark  of  real  religion  within  you, 
you  are  now  likely  to  discover  it,  as  I  am  not  going  to 
rise  to  the  high  attainments  of  Christians  of  the  first 
rank,  but  to  stoop  to  the  character  of  the  meanest.  Now 
the  peculiar  dispositions  and  exercises  of  heart  which 
such  in  some  measure  feel,  you  may  discover  from  the 
following  short  history  of  their  case. 

The  weak  Christian  in  such  languishing  hours  does 
indeed  sometimes  fall  into  such  a  state  of  carelessness 
and  insensibility,  that  he  has  very  few  and  but  superficial 
exercises  of  mind  about  divine  things.  But  generally  he 
feels  an  uneasiness,  an  emptiness,  an  anxiety  within,  un- 
der which  he  droops  and  pines  away,  and  all  the  world 
cannot  heal  the  disease.  He  has  chosen  the  blessed  God 
as  his  supreme  happiness  ;  and,  when  he  cannot  derive 
happiness  from  that  source,  all  the  sweets  of  created  en- 
joyments become  insipid  to  him,  and  cannot  fill  up  the 
prodigious  void  which  the  absence  of  the  Supreme  Good 
leaves  in  his  craving  soul.  Sometimes  his  anxiety  is  in- 
distinct and  confused,  and  he  hardly  knows  what  ails 
him  ;  but  at  other  times  he  feels  it  is  for  God,  the  living 
God,  that  his  soul  pants.  The  evaporations  of  this 
smoking  flax  naturally  ascend  towards  heaven.  He 
knows  that  he  never  can  be  happy  till  he  can  enjoy  the 
communications  of  divine  love.  Let  him  turn  which 
way  he  will,  he  can  find  no  solid  ease,  no  rest,  till  he 
comes  to  this  centre  again. 

Even  at  such  times  he  cannot  be  thoroughly  reconc  1- 
ed  to  his  sins.  He  may  be  parleying  with  some  of  them 
in  an  unguarded  hour,  and  seem  to  be  negotiating  a 
peace  j  but  the  truce  is  soon  ended,  and  they  are  at  vari- 


152  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST 

ance  again.  The  enmity  of  a  renewed  heart  soon  rises 
against  this  old  enemy.  And  there  is  this  circumstance 
remarkable  in  the  believer's  hatred  and  opposition  to  sin, 
that  they  do  not  proceed  principally,  much  less  entirely, 
from  a  fear  of  punishment,  but  from  a  generous  sense  of 
its  intrinsic  baseness  and  ingratitude,  and  its  contrariety 
to  the  holy  nature  of  God.  This  is  the  ground  of  his 
hatred  to  sin,  and  sorrow  for  it  j  and  this  shows  that 
there  is  at  least  a  spark  of  true  grace  in  his  heart,  and 
that  he  does  not  act  altogether  from  the  low,  interested, 
and  mercenary  principles  of  nature. 

At  such  times  he  is  very  jealous  of  the  sincerity  of  his 
religion,  afraid  that  all  his  past  experiences  were  delu- 
sive, and  afraid  that,  if  he  should  die  in  his  present  state, 
he  would  be  for  ever  miserable.  A  very  anxious  state  is 
this !  The  stupid  world  can  lie  secure  while  this  grand 
concern  lies  in  the  most  dreadful  suspense.  But  the 
tender-hearted  believer  is  not  capable  of  such  fool-hardi- 
ness :  he  shudders  at  the  thought  of  everlasting  separation 
from  that  God  and  Savior  whom  he  loves.  He  loves  him, 
and  therefore  the  fear  of  separation  from  him,  fills  him 
with  all  the  anxiety  of  bereaved  love.  This  to  him  is  the 
most  painful  ingredient  of  the  punishment  of  hell.  Hell 
would  be  a  sevenfold  hell  to  a  lover  of  God,  because  it 
is  a  state  of  banishment  from  him  whom  he  loves.  He 
could  for  ever  languish  and  pine  away  under  the  con- 
suming distresses  of  widowed  love,  which  those  that 
love  him  cannot  feel.  And  has  God  kindled  the  sacred 
flame  in  his  heart  in  order  to  render  him  capable  of  the 
more  exquisite  pain  1  Will  he  exclude  from  his  presence 
the  poor  creature  that  clings  to  him,  and  languishes  for 
him  ]  No,  the  flax  that  does  but  smoke  with  his  love 
was  never  intended  to  be  fuel  for  hell ;  but  he  will 
blow  it  up  into  a  flame,  and  nourish  it  till  it  mingles  with 
the  seraphic  ardors  in  the  region  of  perfect  love. 

The  weak  believer  seems  sometimes  driven  by  the 
tempest  of  lusts  and  temptation  from  off  the  rock  of 
Jesus  Christ.  But  he  makes  towards  it  on  the  stormy 
billows,  and  labors  to  lay  hold  upon  it,  and  recover  his 
station  there  ;  for  he  is  sensible  there  is  no  other  foun- 
dation of  safety  ;  but  that  without  Christ  he  must  perish 
for  ever.  It  is  the  habitual  disposition  of  the  believer's 
soul  to  depend  upon  Jesus  Christ  alone.     He  retains  a 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  153 

kind  of  direction  or  tendency  towards  him,  like  the  nee 
die  touched  with  the  load-stone  towards  the  pole  :  and, 
if  his  heart  is  turned  from  its  course,  it  trembles  and 
quivers  till  it  gains  its  favorite  point  again,  and  ifixes 
there.  Sometimes  indeed  a  consciousness  of  guilt  ren- 
ders him  shy  of  his  God  and  Savior  ;  and  after  such 
base  ingratitude  he  is  ashamed  to  go  to  him :  but  at 
length  necessity  as  well  as  inclination  constrains  him, 
and  he  is  obliged  to  cry  out,  Lord^  to  whom  shall  I  go  ? 
thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life.  John  vi.  68.  "  In 
thee  alone  I  find  rest  to  my  soul ;  and  therefore  to  thee 
I  must  fly,  though  I  am  ashamed  and  confounded  to  ap- 
pea^r  in  thy  presence." 

In  short,  the  weakest  Christian  upon  earth  sensibly 
feels  that  his  comfort  rises  and  falls,  as  he  lives  nearer 
to  or  farther  from  his  God.  The  love  of  God  has  such 
an  habitual  predominancy  even  in  his  heart,  that  nothing 
in  the  w^orld,  nor  even  all  the  world  together,  can  fill  up 
his  place.  No,  when  he  is  gone,  heaven  and  earth  can- 
not replenish  the  mighty  void.  Even  the  weakest 
Christian  upon  earth  longs  to  be  delivered  from  sin, 
from  all  sin,  without  exception :  and  a  body  of  death 
hanging  about  him  is  the  burden  of  his  life.  Even  the 
poor  jealous  languishing  Christian  has  his  hope,  all  the 
little  hope  that  he  has,  built  upon  Jesus  Christ.  Even 
this  smoking  flax  sends  up  some  exhalations  of  love  to- 
wards heaven.  Even  the  poor  creature  that  often  fears 
he  is  altogether  a  slave  to  sin,  honestly,  though  feebly,  la- 
bors to  be  holy,  to  be  holy  as  an  angel,  yea,  to  be  holy 
as  God  is  holy.  He  has  a  heart  that  feels  the  attractive 
charms  of  holiness,  and  he  is  so  captivated  by  it,  that  sin 
can  never  recover  its  former  place  in  his  heart :  no,  the 
tyrant  is  for  ever  dethroned,  and  the  believer  w^ould  ra- 
ther die  than  yield  himself  a  tame  slave  to  the  usurped 
tyranny  again. 

Thus  I  have  delineated  to  you,  in  the  plainest  manner 
I  could,  the  character  of  a  weak  Christian.  Some  of 
you,  I  am  afraid,  cannot  lay  claim  even  to  this  low  cha- 
racter. If  so,  you  may  be  sure  you  are  not  true  Chris- 
tians, even  of  the  lowest  rank.  You  may  be  sure  you 
have  not  the  least  spark  of  true  religion  in  your  hearts, 
hut  are  utterly  destitute  of  it. 

But  some  of  you,  I  hope,  can  say,  "  Well,  after  all  my 


154  THE    COMPASSION    01'    CHRIST 

doubts  and  fears,  if  this  be  the  character  of  a  true,  though 
weak  Christian,  then  I  may  humbly  hope  that  I  am  one. 
I  am  indeed  confirmed  in  it,  that  I  am  less  than  the  least 
of  all  other  saints  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  but  yet  1 
see  that  I  am  a  saint ;  for  thus  has  my  heart  been  exer- 
cised, even  in  my  dark  and  languishing  hours.  This  se- 
cret uneasiness  and  pining  anxiety,  this  thirst  for  God, 
for  the  living  God,  this  tendency  of  soul  towards  Jesus 
Christ,  this  implacable  enmity  to  sin,  this  panting  and 
struggling  after  holiness  :  these  things  have  I  often  felt.'' 
And  have  you  indeed  1  Then  aw^ay  with  your  doubts 
and  jealousies ;  away  with  your  fears  and  despondencies  ! 
There  is  at  least  an  immortal  spark  kindled  in  your 
hearts,  which  the  united  power  of  men  and  devils,  of  sin 
and  temptation,  shall  never  be  able  to  quench.  No,  it  shall 
yet  rise  into  a  flame,  and  burn  with  seraphic  ardors  for  ever. 

For  your  farther  encouragement,  I  proceed, 

II.  To  illustrate  the  care  and  compassion  of  Jesus 
Christ  for  such  poor  weaklings  as  you. 

This  may  appear  a  needless  task  to  some :  for  who  is 
there  that  does  not  believe  it  1  But  to  such  would  I  say, 
it  is  no  easy  thing  to  establish  a  trembling  soul  in  the  full 
belief  of  this  truth.  It  is  easy  for  one  that  does  not  see 
his  danger,  and  does  not  feel  his  extreme  need  of  salva- 
tion, and  the  difficulty  of  the  work,  to  believe  that  Christ 
is  uulling  and  able  to  save  him.  But  O  !  to  a  poor  soul, 
deeply  sensible  of  its  condition,  this  is  no  easy  matter. 
Besides,  the  heart  may  need  be  more  deeply  afTected 
with  this  truth,  though  the  understanding  should*  need 
no  farther  arguments  of  the  speculative  kind  for  its  con- 
viction ;  and  to  impress  this  truth  is  my  present  design. 

For  this  purpose  I  need  but  read  and  paraphrase  to 
you  a  few  of  the  many  kind  declarations  and  assurances 
which  Jesus  has  given  us  in  his  word,  and  relate  the 
happy  experiences  of  some  of  his  saints  there  recorded, 
who  found  him  true  and  faithful  to  his  word. 

The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  seems  to  have  a  peculiar  ten- 
derness for  the  poor,  the  mourners,  the  broken-hearted  ; 
and  these  are  peculiarly  the  objects  of  his  mediatorial 
office.  The  Lord  hath  anointed  me,  says  he,  to  preach 
good  tidings  to  the  meek ;  he  hath  sent  me  all  the  Avay 
from  my  native  heaven  down  to  earth,  upon  this  com- 
passionate errand,  to  hind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  ap- 


TO    WEAK    BELIEVERS.  l35 

point  vnio  them  that  mourn  in  Zion^  to  give  unto  them 
beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  ?nourning,  the  gar 
ment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heavijiess.  Isa.  Ixi.  1 — 3. 
Thus  saith  the  Lord,  in  strains  of  majesty  that  become 
him,  the  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  is  my  foot- 
stool :  where  is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  ?  and  where 
is  the  place  of  my  rest  ?  For  all  things  hath  my  hand  made, 
saith  the  Lord.  Had  he  spoken  uniformly  in  this  ma- 
jestic language  to  us  guilty  worms,  the  declaration 
might  have  overwhelmed  us  with  awe,  but  could  not 
have  inspired  us  with  hope.  But  he  advances  himself 
thus  high,  on  purpose  to  let  us  see  how  low  he  can 
stoop.  Hear  the  encouraging  sequel  of  this  his  majes- 
tic speech :  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is 
poor,  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  tremhleth  at  my  word. 
Let  heaven  and  earth  wonder  that  he  will  look  down 
through  all  the  shining  ranks  of  angels,  and  look  by 
princes  and  nobles  to  fix  his  eye  upon  this  man,  this 
poor  man,  this  contrite,  broken-hearted,  trembling 
creature.  Isa.  Ixvi.  1,  2.  He  loves  to  dwell  upon  this 
subject,  and  therefore  you  hear  it  again  in  the  same 
prophecy  :  "  Thus  saith  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  in- 
habiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  holy," — what  does  he 
say  %  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place.  Isa.  Ivii.  15. 
This  is  said  in  character.  This  is  a  dwelling  in  some 
measure  worthy  the  inhabitant.  But  0  !  will  he  stoop 
to  dwell  in  a  lower  mansion,  or  pitch  his  tent  among 
mortals  1  yes,  he  dwells  not  only  in  his  high  and 
holy  place,  but  also,  with  him  that  is  of  a  contrite  and 
humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  hurable,  and  to  re- 
Vive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.  He  charges  Peter  to 
feed  his  lambs  as  well  as  his  sheep  ;  that  is,  to  take  the 
tenderest  care  even  of  the  weakest  in  his  flock.  John 
xxi.  15.  And  he  severely  rebukes  the  shepherds  ot 
Israel,  Because,  says  he,  ye  have  not  strengthened  the  dis' 
eased,  neither  have  ye  healed  that  which  was  sick,  neither 
have  ye  bou7id  up  that  which  was  broken.  Ezek.  xxxiv.  4. 
But  what  an  amiable  reverse  is  the  character  of  the 
great  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls  .'  Behold,  says 
Isaiah,  the  Lord  will  come  with  a  strong  hand,  and  his  arm 
shall  rule  for  him  :  behold  his  reward  is  with  him,  and  his 
work  before  him.  How  justly  may  we  tremble  at  this 
proclamation  of  the   approaching   God  !    for   who  can 


lot)  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST 

Stand  -when  he  appeareth  1  But  how  agreeably  are  our 
fears  disappointed  in  what  follows  !  If  he  comes  to  take 
vengeance  on  his  enemies,  he  also  comes  to  show 
mercy  to  the  meanest  of  his  people.  He  shall  feed  his 
flock  like  a  shepherd^  he  shall  gather  the  lambs  with  his 
armSj  and  cai-ry  them  in  his  bosom,  and  shall  gently  lead 
those  that  are  with  young :  Isa.  xi.  10,  11,  that  is,  he  shall 
exercise  the  tenderest  and  most  compassionate  care  to- 
wards the  meanest  and  weakest  of  his  flock.  He  looked 
down,  says  the  Psalmist,  yVowj  the  height  of  his  sanctuary  ; 
from  heaven  did  the  Lord  behold  the  earth  ;  not  to  view  the 
grandeur  and  pride  of  courts  and  kings,  nor  the  heroic 
exploits  of  conquerors,  but  to  hear  the  groaning  of  the 
prisoner,  to  loose  those  that  are  appointed,  to  die.  He  will 
regard  the  prayer  of  the  destitute,  and  not  despise  their 
prayer.  This  shall  be  written  for  the  generation  to  come. 
Psalm  cii.  17 — 20.  It  was  written  for  your  encourage- 
ment, my  brethren.  Above  three  thousand  years  ago, 
this  encouraging  passage  was  entered  into  the  sacred 
records  for  the  support  of  poor  desponding  souls  in  Vir 
ginia,  in  the  ends  of  the  earth.  O  what  an  early  provi- 
dent care  does  God  show  for  his  people !  There  are 
none  of  the  seven  churches  of  Asia  so  highly  commend- 
ed by  Christ  as  that  of  Philadelphia;  and  yet  in  com- 
mending her,  all  he  can  say  is,  "  Thou  hast  a  little 
strength."  /  know  thy  works  ;  behold  I  have  set  before 
thee  an  open  door,  and  no  man  can  shut  it,  for  thou  hast  a 
little  strength.  Rev.  iii.  8.  O  how  acceptable  is  a  little 
strength  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  how  ready  is  he  to  improve 
it.  He  giveth  power  to  the  faint,  says  Isaiah,  and  to  them 
that  have  no  might  he  increaseth  strength.  Isa.  xi.  29. 
Hear  farther  what  words  of  grace  and  truth  flowed  from 
the  lips  of  Jesus.  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest :  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart.  Matt.  xi.  28,  29.  Him  that  cometh  unto  me, 
J  will  in  nowise  cast  out.  John  vi.  57.  If  any  man  thirst, 
let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink.  John  vii.  37.  Let  him 
that  2s  athirst  come,  and  whosoever  will,  let  him  come  and 
take  of  the  water  of  life  freely.  Rev.  xxii.  17.  O  what 
strong  consolation  is  here !  what  exceeding  great  and 
precious  promises  are  these  !  I  might  easily  add  to  the 
catalogue,  but  these  may  suffice. 

Let  us  now  see  liowhis  people  in  every  age  have  ever 


TO   WEAK   BELIEVERS.  157 

found  these  promises  made  good.  Here  David  may  be 
consulted  instar  omnium^  and  he  will  tell  you,  pointing 
to  himself,  This  poor  man  cried,  and  the  Lord  heard  and 
delivered  him  out  of  all  his  troubles.  Psalm  xxxiv.  6.  St. 
Paul,  in  the  midst  of  affliction,  calls  God  the  Father  of 
mercies,  and  God  of  all  comfort,  who  comforteth  us  in  all 
our  tribulation.  2  Cor.  i.  3,  4.  God,  says  he,  that  com- 
forteth those  that  are  cast  down,  comforteth  us.  2  Cor. 
vii.  6.  What  a  sweetly  emphatic  declaration  is  this! 
"  God,  the  comforter  of  the  humble,  comforted  us."* 
He  is  not  only  the  Lord  of  hosts,  the  King  of  kings,  the 
Creator  of  the  world,  but  among  his  more  august  cha- 
racters he  assumes  this  title,  the  Comforter  of  "  the 
humble."  Such  St.  Paul  found  him  in  an  hour  of 
temptation,  when  he  had  this  supporting  answer  to  his 
repeated  prayer  for  deliverance.  My  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee  ;  for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  i?i  weakness.  2  Cor. 
xii.  9.  Since  this  was  the  case,  since  his  weakness  was 
more  than  supplied  by  the  strength  of  Christ,  and  was  a 
foil  to  set  it  off,  St.  Paul  seems  quite  regardless  what 
infirmities  he  labored  under.  Nay,  most  gladly,  says  he, 
will  I  rather  glory  in  my  infirmities,  that  the  power  of 
Christ  may  rest  upon  me.  Therefore  I  take  pleasure  in  in- 
firmities— for  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.  He  could 
take  no  pleasure  in  feeling  himself  weak  :  but  the  morti- 
fication was  made  up  by  the  pleasure  he  found  in  lean- 
ing upon  this  almighty  support.  His  wounds  were  pain- 
ful to  him:  but,  oh  !  the  pleasure  he  found  in  feeling 
the  divine  physician  dressing  his  wounds,  in  some  mea- 
sure swallowed  up  the  pain.  It  was  probably  experience, 
as  well  as  inspiration,  that  dictated  to  the  apostle  that 
amiable  character  of  Christ,  that  he  is  a  "  merciful  and 
faithful  high-priest,  who,  being  himself  tempted,  knows 
how  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted."  Heb  ii.  17,  18. 
And  "  we  have  not  a  high-priest  which  cannot  be  touch- 
ed with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all 
points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin."  Heb. 
iv.  15. 

But   why   need   I   multiply   arguments  1     Go  to   his 
cross,  and  there  learn  his  love  and  compassion,  from  his 

•  This  is  the  most  literal  translation  of 5  Tra^aKa\cJv  rove  rarrtiovs 

14 


15l>  THE    COMPASSION    OF    CHRIST. 

groans  and  wounds,  and  blood,  and  death.  Would  he 
hang  there  in  such  agony  for  sinners  if  he  were  not  will- 
ing ^to  save  them,  and  cherish  every  good  principle 
in^them  1  There  you  may  have  much  the  same  evi- 
dence of  his  compassion  as  Thomas  had  of  his  resurrec- 
tion ;  you  may  look  into  his  hands,  and  see  the  print  of 
the  nails ;  and  into  his  side,  and  see  the  scar  of  the 
spear ;  which  loudly  proclaims  his  readiness  to  pity  and 
help  you. 

And  now,  poor,  trembling,  doubting  souls,  what  hin- 
ders but  you  should  rise  up  your  drooping  head,  and 
take  courage  1  May  you  not  venture  your  souls  into 
such  compassionate  and  faithful  hands  %  Why  should 
the  bruised  reed  shrink  from  him,  when  he  comes  not 
to  tread  it  down,  but  raise  it  up  1 

As  I  am  really  solicitous  that  impenitent  hearts  among 
us  should  be  pierced  with  the  medicinal  anguish  and 
sorrow  of  conviction  and  repentance,  and  the  most 
friendly  heart  cannot  form  a  kinder  wish  for  them,  so  I 
am  truly  solicitous  that  every  honest  soul,  in  which 
there  is  the  least  spark  of  true  piety,  should  enjoy  the 
pleasure  of  it.  It  is  indeed  to  be  lamented  that  they  who 
have  a  title  to  so  much  happiness  should  enjoy  so  little 
of  it ;  it  is  very  incongruous  that  they  should  go  bow- 
ing the  head  in  their  way  towards  heaven,  as  if  they 
were  hastening  to  the  place  of  execution,  and  that  they 
should  serve  so  good  a  master  with  such  heavy  hearts 
O  lift  up  the  hands  that  hang  down,  and  strengthen  the 
feeble  knees  !  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye,  my  people, 
saith  your  God.  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the 
power  of  his  might."  Trust  in  your  all-sufficient  Re- 
deemer ;  trust  in  him  though  he  should  slay  you. 

And  do  not  indulge  causeless  doubts  and  fears  con- 
cerning your  sincerity.  When  they  arise  in  your  minds, 
examine  them,  and  search  whether  there  be  any  sufficient 
reason  for  them  ;  and  if  you  discover  there  is  not,  then 
reject  them  and  set  them  at  defiance,  and  entertain  your 
hopes  in  spite  of  them,  and  say  with  the  Psalmist, 
"  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul,  and  why  art  thou 
disquieted  within  me  1  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet 
praise  him,  the  health  of  my  countenance,  and  my  God." 
Psalm  xliii.  11. 


PRESENT   HOLINESS    AND    FUTURE   FELICITY.  159 


SERMON  IX. 

THE    CONNECTION    BETWEEN    PRESENT    HOLINESS    AND  FUTURE 
FELICITY. 

Heb.  xii.  14.     Follow — holiness  ;    without  which  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord. 

As  the  human  soul  was  originally  designed  for  the  en- 
joyment of  no  less  a  portion  than  the  ever-blessed  God, 
it  was  formed  with  a  strong  innate  tendency  towards 
happiness.  It  has  not  only  an  eager  fondness  for  exist- 
ence, but  for  some  good  to  render  its  existence  happy. 
And  the  privation  of  being  itself  is  not  more  terrible 
than  the  privation  of  all  its  blessings.  It  is  true,  in  the 
present  degeneracy  of  human  nature,  this  vehement  de- 
sire is  miserably  perverted  and  misplaced  :  man  seeks 
his  supreme  happiness  in  sinful,  or  at  best  in  created  en- 
joyments, forgetful  of  the  uncreated  fountain  of  bliss ; 
but  yet  still  he  seeks  happiness  :  still  this  innate  impetus 
is  predominant,  and  though  he  mistakes  the  means,  yet 
he  still  retains  a  general  aim  at  the  end.  Hence  he  ran- 
sacks this  lower  world  in  quest  of  felicity ;  climbs  in 
seach  of  it  the  slippery  ascent  of  honor ;  hunts  for  it  in 
the  treasures  of  gold  and  silver  j  or  plunges  for  it  in  the 
foul  streams  of  sensual  pleasures.  But  since  all  the  sor- 
did satisfaction  resulting  from  these  things  is  not  ade- 
quate to  the  unbounded  cravings  of  the  mind,  and  since 
the  satisfaction  is  transitory  and  perishing,  or  we  may 
be  wrenched  from  it  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death, 
the  mind  breaks  through  the  limits  of  the  present  en- 
joyments, and  even  of  the  lower  creation,  and  ranges 
through  the  unknown  scenes  of  futurity  in  quest  of 
some  untried  good.  Hope  makes  excursions  into  the 
dark  duration  between  the  present  now  and  the  grave, 
and  forms  to  itself  pleasing  images  of  approaching  bless- 
ings, which  often  vanish  in  the  embrace,  like  delusive 
phantoms.  Nay,  it  launches  into  the  vast  unknown 
world  that  lies  beyond  the  grave,  and  roves  through  the 
regions  of  immensity  after  some  complete  felicity  to 
supply  the  defects  of  sublunary  enjoyments.  Hence, 
though  men,  till  their  spirits  are  refined  by  regenera- 


160  THE    CONNECTION    BETWEEN 

grace,  have  no  relish  for  celestial  joys,  but  pant  for  the 
poor  pleasures  of  time  and  sense,  yet  as  they  cannot 
avnid  the  unwelcome  consciousness  that  death  will  ere 
long  rend  them  from  these  sordid  and  momentary  enjoy- 
ments, are  constrained  to  indulge  the  hope  of  bliss  in  a 
future  state  :  and  they  promise  themselves  happiness  in 
another  world  when  they  can  no  longer  enjoy  any  in  this. 
And  as  reason  and  revelation  unitedly  assure  them  that 
this  felicity  cannot  consist  in  sensual  indulgences,  they 
generally  expect  it  will  be  of  a  more  refined  and  spirit- 
ual nature,  and  flow  more  immediately  from  the  great 
Father  of  spirits. 

He  must  indeed  be  miserable  that  abandons  all  hope 
of  this  blessedness.  The  Christian  religion  affords  him 
no  other  prospect  but  that  of  eternal,  intolerable  misery 
in  the  regions  of  darkness  and  despair  ;  and  if  he  flies  to 
infidelity  as  a  refuge,  it  can  afford  him  no  comfort  but 
the  shocking  prospect  of  annihilation. 

Now,  if  men  were  pressed  into  heaven  by  an  unavoid- 
able fatality,  if  happiness  was  promiscuously  promised 
to  them  aJl  without  distinction  of  characters,  then  they 
might  indulge  a  blind  unexammed  hope,  and  never 
perplex  themselves  with  anxious  inquiries  about  it. 
And  he  might  justly  be  deemed  a  malignant  disturber  of 
the  repose  of  mankind,  that  would  attempt  to  shock 
their  hope,  and  frighten  them  with  causeless  scruples. 

But  if  the  light  of  nature  intimates,  and  the  voice  of 
Scripture  proclaims  aloud,  that  this  eternal  felicity  is  re- 
served only  for  persons  of  particular  characters,  and 
that  multitudes,  multitudes  who  entertained  pleasing 
hopes  of  it,  are  confounded  with  an  eternal  disappoint- 
ment, and  shall  suffer  an  endless  duration  in  the  most 
terrible  miseries,  w^e  ought  each  of  us  to  take  the  alarm, 
and  examine  the  grounds  of  our  hope,  that,  if  they  ap- 
pear sufficient,  we  may  allow  ourselves  a  rational  satis- 
faction in  them  ;  and  if  they  are  found  delusive,  we  may 
abandon  them,  and  seek  for  a  hope  which  wdll  bear  the 
test  now  while  it  may  be  obtained.  And  however  dis- 
agreeable the  task  be  to  give  our  fellow-creatures  even 
profitable  uneasiness,  yet  he  must  appear  to  the  impar- 
tial a  friend  to  the  best  interests  of  mankind,  who  points 
out  the  evidences  and  foundation  of  a  rational  and  scrip- 


HOLINESS   AND    FELICITY.  161 

tural  hope,  and  exposes  the  various  mistakes  to  which 
we  are  subject  in  so  important  a  case. 

And  if,  when  we  look  around  us,  we  find  persons  full 
of  the  hopes  of  heaven,  who  can  give  no  scriptural  evi- 
dences of  them  to  themselves  or  others ;  if  we  find 
many  indulging  this  pleasing  delusion,  whose  practices 
are  mentioned  by  God  himself  as  the  certain  marks 
of  perishing  sinners ;  and  if  persons  are  so  tenacious 
of  these  hopes,  that  they  will  retain  them  to  their 
everlasting  ruin,  unless  the  most  convictive  methods 
are  taken  to  undeceive  them  ;  then  it  is  high  time  for 
those  to  whom  the  care  of  souls  (a  weightier  charge 
than  that  of  kingdoms)  is  intrusted,  to  use  the  greatest 
plainness  for  this  purpose. 

This  is  my  chief  design  at  present,  and  to  this  my 
text  naturally  leads  me.     It  contains  these  doctrines  : 

First,  That  without  holiness  here,  it  is  impossible  for 
us  to  enjoy  heavenly  happiness  in  the  future  world. 
To  see  the  Lord,  is  here  put  for  enjoying  him  ;  see  Rom. 
viii.  24.  And  the  metaphor  signifies  the  happiness  of 
the  future  state  in  general ;  and  more  particularly  in- 
timates that  the  knowledge  of  God  will  be  a  special  in- 
gredient therein.     See  a  parallel  expression  in  Matt.  v.  8. 

Secondly,  that  this  consideration  should  induce  us  to 
use  the  most  earnest  endeavors  to  obtain  the  heavenly 
happiness.  Pursue  holiness,  because  without  it  no  man 
can  see  the  Lord. 

Hence  I  am  naturally  led, 

I.  To  explain  the  nature  of  that  holiness y  without 
which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord. 

II.  To  show  what  endeavors  should  be  used  to  obtain 
it.     And, 

III.  To  urge  you  to  use  them  by  the  consideration 
of  the  absolute  necessity  of  holiness. 

I.  I  am  to  explain  the  nature  of  holiness.  And  I 
shall  give  you  a  brief  definition  of  it,  and  then  mention 
some  of  those  dispositions  and  practices  which  naturally 
flow  from  it. 

The  most  intelligible  description  of  holiness,  as  it  is 
inherent  in  us,  may  be  this ;  "  It  is  a  conformity  in 
heart  and  practice  to  the  revealed  will  of  God."  As 
the  Supreme  Being  is  the  standard  of  all  perfection,  his 
holiness  in  particular  is  the  standard  of  ours.     Then  w ; 


162  THE    CONNECTION    BETWEEN 

are  holy  when  his  image  is  stamped  upon  our  hearts 
and  reflected  in  our  lives  ;  so  the  apostle  defines  it,  and 
that  ye  put  on  the  ?iew  man,  which  after  God  is  created  in 
righteousness  and  true  holiness.  Eph.  iv.  24.  Whom  he 
did  predestinate  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son. 
Rom.  viii.  29.  Hence  holiness  may  be  defined,  "  A 
conformity  to  God  in  his  moral  perfections."  But  as  we 
cannot  have  a  distinct  knowledge  of  these  perfections 
but  as  they  are  manifested  by  the  revealed  will  of  God, 
I  choose  to  define  holiness,  as  above,  "  A  conformity  to 
his  revealed  will."  Now  his  revealed  will  comprises 
both  the  law  and  the  gospel;  the  law  informs  us  of  the 
duty  which  we  as  creatures  owe  to  God  as  a  being  of 
supreme  excellency,  as  our  Creator  and  Benefactor,  and 
to  men  as  our  fellow-creatures  ;  and  the  gospel  informs 
us  of  the  duty  which  as  sinners  we  owe  to  God  as  re- 
concileable  through  a  Mediator.  Our  obedience  to  the 
former  implies  the  whole  of  morality,  and  to  the  latter  the 
whole  of  evangelical  graces,  as  faith  in  a  Mediator,  re- 
pentance, &c. 

From  this  definition  of  holiness  it  appears,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary,  to  see  the  Lord  ;  for 
unless  our  dispositions  are  conformed  to  him,  we  cannot 
be  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  him:  and  on  the  other 
hand,  that  they  who  are  made  thus  holy,  are  prepared  for 
the  vision  and  fruition  of  his  face,  as  they  can  relish  the 
divinest  pleasure. 

But  as  a  concise  definition  of  holiness  may  give  an  audi- 
tory but  very  imperfect  ideas  of  it,  I  shall  expatiate  upon 
the  dispositions  and  practices  in  which  it  consists,  or  which 
naturally  result  from  it ;  and  they  are  such  as  follow : 

1.  A  delight  in  God  for  his  holiness.  Self-love  may 
prompt  us  to  love  him  for  his  goodness  to  us ;  and  so, 
many  unregenerate  men  may  have  a  selfish  love  to  God 
on  this  account.  But  to  love  God  because  he  is  infinite- 
ly holy,  because  he  bears  an  infinite  detestation  to  all 
sin,  and  will  not  indulge  his  creatures  in  the  neglect  of 
the  least  instance  of  holiness,  but  commands  them  to  be 
holy  as  he  is  holy,  this  is  a  disposition  connatural  to  a 
renewed  soul  only,  and  argues  a  conformity  to  his  image 
Every  nature  is  most  agreeable  to  itself,  and  a  holy  na- 
ture is  most  agreeable  to  a  holy  nature. 

Here  I  would  make  a  remark,  which  may  God  deeply 


HOLINESS    AND    FELICITY.  163 

impress  on  your  hearts,  and  which  for  that  purpose  I 
shall  subjoin  to  each  particular,  that  holiness  in  fallen 
man  is  supernatural ;  I  mean,  we  are  not  born  with  it, 
we  give  no  discoveries  of  it,  till  we  have  experienced  a 
great  change.  Thus  we  find  it  in  the  present  case :  we 
have  no  natural  love  to  God  because  of  his  infinite  puri- 
ty and  hatred  to  all  sin  ;  nay,  we  would  love  him  more 
did  he  give  us  greater  indulgences ;  and  I  am  afraid  the 
love  of  some  persons  is  founded  upon  a  mistake ;  they 
love  him  because  they  imagine  he  does  not  hate  sin,  nor 
them  for  it,  so  much  as  he  really  does ;  because  they 
do  not  expect  he  is  so  inexorably  just  in  his  dealings  with 
the  sinner.  It  is  no  AYonder  they  love  such  a  soft,  easy, 
passive  being  as  this  imaginary  deity  ;  but  did  they  see 
the  lustre  of  that  holiness  of  God  which  dazzles  the 
celestial  armies ;  did  they  but  know  the  terrors  of  his 
justice,  and  his  implacable  indignation  against  sin,  their 
innate  enmity  would  show  its  poison,  and  their  hearts 
would  rise  against  God  in  all  those  horrible  blasphemies 
with  which  awakened  sinners  are  so  frequently  shocked. 
Such  love  as  this  is  so  far  from  being  acceptable,  that  it 
is  the  greatest  affront  to  the  Supreme  Being ;  as,  if  a  pro- 
fligate loved  you  on  the  mistaken  supposition  that  you 
were  such  a  libertine  as  himself,  it  would  rather  inflame 
your  indignation  than  procure  your  respect. 

But  to  a  regenerate  mind  how  strong,  how  trans- 
porting are  the  charms  of  holiness!  Such  a  mind  joins 
the  anthem  of  seraphs  with  the  divinest  complacency. 
Rev.  iv.  8,  and  anticipates  the  song  of  glorified  saints, 
Who  would  not  fear  t/iee^  0  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name,  for 
thou  only  art  holy  ?  Rev.  xv.  4.  The  perfections  of  God 
lose  their  lustre,  or  sink  into  objects  of  terror  or  con- 
tempt, if  this  glorious  attribute  be  abstracted.  Without 
holiness  power  becomes  tyranny,  omniscience  craft,  jus- 
tice revenge  and  cruelty,  and  even  the  amiable  attribute 
of  goodness  loses  its  charms,  and  degenerates  into  a 
blind  promiscuous  prodigality,  or  foolish  undiscerning 
fondness  :  but  when  these  perfections  are  clothed  in  the 
beauties  of  holiness,  how  godlike,  how  majestic,  how 
lovely  and  attractive  do  they  appear !  and  with  what 
complacence  does  a  mind  fashioned  after  the  divine 
image  acquiesce  in  them !  It  may  appear  amiable  even 
to  an  unholy  sinner,  that  the  exertions  of  almighty  pow- 


164  THE    CONNECTIOxN    BETWEEN 

er  should  be  regulated  by  the  most  consummate  wisdom  •, 
that  justice  should  not  without  distinction  punish  tht 
guilty  and  the  innocent :  but  an  holy  soul  only  can  re 
joice  that  divine  goodness  will  not  communicate  happi- 
ness to  the  disgrace  of  holiness ;  and  that,  rather  than 
it  should  overflow  in  a  blind  promiscuous  manner,  the 
whole  human  race  should  be  miserable.  A  selfish  sinner 
has  nothing  in  view  but  his  own  happiness ;  and  if  this 
be  obtained,  he  has  no  anxiety  about  the  illustration  of  • 
the  divine  purity  ;  but  it  recommends  happiness  itself  to 
a  sanctified  soul,  that  it  cannot  be  communicated  in  a 
way  inconsistent  with  the  beauties  of  holiness. 

2.  Holiness  consists  in  a  hearty  complacence  in  the  law 
of  God,  because  of  its  purity.  The  law  is  the  transcript 
of  the  moral  perfections  of  God  ;  and  if  we  love  the  ori- 
ginal, we  shall  love  the  copy.  Accordingly  it  is  natural 
to  a  renewed  mind  to  love  the  divine  law,  because  it  is 
perfectly  holy  ,  because  it  makes  no  allowance  for  the 
least  sin,  and  requires  every  duty  that  it  becomes  us  to 
perform  towards  God.  Psalm  cxix.  140,  and  xix.  7 — 10, 
Eomans  vii.  12,  compared  with  22. 

But  is  this  our  natural  disposition  1  Is  this  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  gonerality  '?  Do  they  not,  on  the  contrary, 
secretly  find  fault  with  the  law,  because  it  is  so  strict  1 
And  their  common  objection  against  that  holiness  of  life 
which  it  enjoins  is,  that  they  cannot  bear  to  be  so  pre- 
cise. Hence  they  are  always  for  abating  the  rigor  of 
the  law,  for  bringing  it  down  to  some  imaginary  stand- 
ard of  their  own,  to  their  present  ability,  to  sins  of  prac- 
tice without  regard  to  the  sinful  dispositions  of  the 
heart ;  or  to  the  prevailing  dispositions  of  the  heart  with- 
out regard  to  the  first  workings  of  concupiscence, 
those  embryos  of  iniquity  ;  and  if  they  love  the  law  at 
all,  as  they  profess  to  do,  it  is  upon  the  supposition  that 
it  is  not  so  strict  as  it  really  is,  but  grants  them  greater 
indulgences.     Rom.  vii.  7. 

Hence  it  appears  that,  if  we  are  made  holy  at  all,  it 
must  be  by  a  supernatural  change  ;  and  when  that  is  ef- 
fected, what  a  strange  and  happy  alteration  does  the  sin- 
ner perceive  !  with  what  pleasure  does  he  resign  him- 
self a  willing  subject  to  that  law  to  which  he  was  oncer 
so  averse  !  And  when  he  fails,  (as  alas!  he  does  in  many 
things,)  how  is  he  humbled  !     He  does  not  lay  the  fault 


HOLINESS    AND    FELICITY.  165 

upon  the  law  as  requiring  impossibilities,  but  lays  the 
whole  fault  upon  himself  as  a  corrupt  sinner. 

3.  Holiness  consists  in  a  hearty  complacence  in  the 
gospel  method  of  salvation,  because  it  tends  to  illustrate 
the  moral  perfections  of  the  Deity,  and  to  discover  the 
beauties  of  holiness. 

The  gospel  informs  us  of  two  grand  pre-requisites  to 
the  salvation  of  the  fallen  sons  of  men,  namely,  the  sat- 
isfaction of  divine  justice  by  the  obedience  and  passion 
of  Christ,  that  God  might  be  reconciled  to  them  consist- 
ently with  his  perfections  ;  and  the  sanctification  of  sin- 
ners by  the  efficacy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  they  might 
be  capable  of  enjoying  God,  and  that  he  might  maintain 
mtimate  communion  with  them  without  any  stain  to  his 
holiness.  These  two  grand  articles  contain  the  substance 
of  the  gospel ;  and  our  acquiescence  in  them  is  the  sub- 
stance of  that  evangelical  obedience  which  it  requires  of 
us,  and  which  is  essential  to  holiness  in  a  fallen  crea- 
ture. 

Now,  it  is  evident,  that  without  either  of  these  the 
moral  perfections  of  the  Deity,  particularly  his  holiness, 
could  not  be  illustrated,  or  even  secured  in  the  salvation 
of  a  sinner.  Had  he  received  an  apostate  race  into  fa- 
vor, who  had  conspired  in  the  most  unnatural  rebellion 
against  him,  without  any  satisfaction,  his  holiness  would 
have  been  eclipsed  ;  it  would  not  have  appeared  that  he 
had  so  invincible  an  abhorrence  of  sin,  so  zealous  a  re- 
gard for  the  vindication  of  his  own  holy  law ;  or  to  his 
veracity,  which  had  threatened  condign  punishment  to 
offenders.  But  by  the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  his  holiness 
is  illustrated  in  the  most  conspicuous  manner  ;  now  it 
appears,  that  God  would  upon  no  terms  save  a  sinner  but 
that  of  adequate  satisfaction,  and  that  no  other  Avas  suffi- 
cient but  the  suffering  of  his  co-equal  Son,  otherwise  he 
would  not  have  appointed  him  to  sustain  the  character 
of  a  Mediator  ;  and  now  it  appears  that  his  hatred  of  sin 
is  such  that  he  would  not  let  it  pass  unpunished  even  in 
his  own  Son,  when  only  imputed  to  him.  In  like  man- 
ner, if  sinners,  while  unholy,  were  admitted  into  com- 
munion with  God  in  heaven,  it  would  obscure  the  glory 
of  his  holiness,  and  it  would  not  then  appear  that  such 
was  the  purity  of  his  nature  that  he  could  have  no  fel- 
lowship with  sin.     But  now  it  is  evident,  that  even  the 


166  THE    CONNECTION    BETWEEN 

blood  of  Immanuel  cannot  purchase  heaven  to  be  enjoy- 
ed by  a  sinner  while  unholy,  but  that  every  one  that  ar- 
rives at  heaven  must  first  be  sanctified.  An  unholy  sin- 
ner can  no  more  be  saved,  while  such,  by  the  gospel  than 
by  the  law  ;  but  here  lies  the  difference,  that  the  gospel 
makes  provision  for  his  sanctification,  which  is  gradual- 
ly carried  on  here,  and  perfected  at  death,  before  his  ad- 
mission into  the  heavenly  glory. 

Now  it  is  the  genius  of  true  holiness  to  acquiesce  in 
both  these  articles.  A  sanctified  soul  places  all  its  de- 
pendence on  the  righteousness  of  Christ  for  acceptance. 
It  would  be  disagreeable  to  it  to  have  the  least  concur- 
rence in  its  own  justification.  It  is  not  only  willing,  but 
delights  to  renounce  all  its  own  righteousness,  and  to 
glory  in  Christ  alone.  Phil.  iii.  3.  Free  grace  to  such 
souls  is  a  charming  theme,  and  salvation  is  more  ac- 
ceptable, because  conveyed  in  this  way.  It  w^ould  ren- 
der lueaven  itself  disagreeable,  and  wither  all  its  joys, 
were  they  brought  thither  in  a  way  that  degrades  or 
does  not  illustrate  the  glory  of  God's  holiness  ;  but  O 
how  agreeable  the  thought,  that  he  that  glorieth  must 
glory  in  the  Lord,  and  that  the  pride  of  all  flesh  shall  be 
abased ! 

So  a  holy  person  rejoiceth  that  the  way  of  holiness  is 
the  appointed  way  to  heaven.  He  is  not  forced  to  be 
holy  merely  by  the  servile  consideration  that  he  must  be 
so  or  perish,  and  so  unwillingly  submits  to  the  necessity 
which  he  cannot  avoid,  when  in  the  mean  time,  were  it 
put  to  his  choice,  he  would  choose  to  reserve  some  sins, 
and  neglect  some  painful  duties.  So  far  from  this,  that 
he  delights  in  the  gospel-constitution,  because  it  requires 
universal  holiness,  and  heaven  would  be  less  agreeable, 
were  he  to  carry  even  the  least  sin  there.  He  thinks  it 
no  hardship  that  he  must  deny  himself  in  his  sinful  plea- 
sures, and  habituate  himself  to  so  much  strictness  in  re- 
ligion ;  no,  but  he  blesses  the  Lord  for  obliging  him  to 
it,  and  where  he  fails  he  charges  himself  with  it,  and  is 
self-abased  upon  the  account. 

This  is  solid  rational  religion,  fit  to  be  depended  upon, 
in  opposition  to  the  antinomian  licentiousness,  the  freaks 
of  enthusiasm,  and  the  irrational  flights  of  passion  and 
imaj^ination  on  the  one  hand;  and  in  opposition  to  for- 
mality, mere   morality,  and  the   self-sprung  religion  of 


HOLINESS    AND    FELICITV.  ICT 

nature  on  the  other.  And  is  it  not  evident  we  are  des- 
titute of  this  by  nature  1  Men  naturally  are  averse  to 
this  p^ospel  method  of  salvation  ;  they  will  not  submit  to 
the  righteousness  of  God,  but  fix  their  dependence,  in 
part  at  least,  upon  their  own  merit.  Their  proud  hearts 
cannot  bear  the  thought  that  all  their  performances  must 
go  for  just  nothing  in  their  justification.  They  are  also 
averse  to  the  way  of  holiness ;  hence  they  will  either 
abandon  the  expectation  of  heaven,  and  since  they  can- 
not obtain  it  in  their  sinful  ways,  desperately  conclude 
to  go  on  in  sin,  come  what  will;  or,  with  all  the  little 
sophistry  they  are  capable  of,  they  will  endeavor  to 
widen  the  way  to  heaven,  and  persuade  themselves  they 
shall  attain  it,  notwithstanding  their  continuance  in  some 
known  iniquity,  and  though  their  hearts  have  never  been 
thoroughly  sanctified.  Alas !  how  evident  is  this  all 
around  us !  How^  many  either  give  up  their  hopes  of 
heaven  rather  than  part  with  sin,  or  vainly  hold  them, 
while  their  dispositions  and  practices  prove  them  ground- 
less !  And  must  not  such  degenerate  creatures  be  re- 
newed ere  they  can  be  holy,  or  see  the  Lord  1 

4.  Holiness  consists  in  an  habitual  delight  in  all  the 
duties  of  holiness  towards  God  and  man,  and  an  earnest 
desire  for  communion  with  God  in  them.  This  is  the 
natural  result  of  all  the  foregoing  particulars.  If  we 
love  God  for  his  holiness,  we  shall  delight  in  that  ser- 
vice in  which  our  conformity  to  him  consists  ;  if  we  love 
his  law,  we  shall  delight  in  that  obedience  which  it  en- 
joins; and  if  we  take  complacence  in  the  evangelical 
method  of  salvation,  we  shall  take  delight  in  that  ho- 
liness, without  which  we  cannot  enjoy  it.  The  service 
of  God  is  the  element,  the  pleasure  of  a  holy  soul; 
while  others  delight  in  the  riches,  the  honors,  or  the 
pleasures  of  this  world,  the  holy  soul  desires  one  thing 
of  the  Lord,  that  it  may  behold  his  beauty  while  inquiring 
in  his  temple.  Psalm  xxvii.  4.  Such  a  person  delights 
in  retired  converse  with  heaven,  in  meditation  and 
prayer.  Ps.  cxxxix.  17.  and  Ixiii.  5,  6,  and  Ixxiii.  28. 
He  also  takes  pleasure  in  justice,  benevolence,  and  cha- 
rity towards  men,  Ps.  cxii.  5,  9,  and  in  the  strictest 
temperance  and  sobriety.   1  Cor.  ix.  27. 

Moreover,  the  mere  formality  of  performing  religious 
duties  does  not  satisfy  the  true  saint,  unless  he  enjoys  a 


168  THE    COiNJNECTION    BETWEEN 

divine  friendship  therein,  receives  communications  of 
grace  from  heaven,  and  finds  his  graces  quickenea. 
Ps.  xlii.   1,  2. 

This  consideration  also  shows  us  that  holiness  in  us 
must  be  supernatural  ;  for  do  we  naturally  thus  delight 
in  the  service  of  God  1  or  do  you  all  now  thus  delight 
in  it  1  is  it  not  rather  a  weariness  to  you,  and  do  you 
not  find  more  pleasures  in  other  things  1  Surely  you 
must  be  changed,  or  you  can  have  no  relish  for  the  en- 
joyments of  heavenly  happiness. 

5.  To  constitute  us  saints  indeed  there  must  be  uni- 
versal holiness  in  practice.  This  naturally  follows  from 
the  last,  for  as  the  body  obeys  the  stronger  volitions  of 
the  will,  so  when  the  heart  is  prevailingly  disposed  to 
the  service  of  God,  the  man  will  habitually  practise  it. 
This  is  generally  mentioned  in  scripture  as  the  grand 
characteristic  of  real  religion,  without  which  all  our  pre- 
tensions are  vain.  1  John  iii.  2 — 10,  and  v.  3.  John  xv. 
15.  True  Christians  are  far  from  being  perfect  in  prac- 
tice, yet  thej'^  are  prevailingly  holy  in  all  manner  r»f  con- 
versation ;  they  do  not  live  habitually  in  any  one  known 
sin,  or  wilfully  neglect  any  one  known  duty.  Psalm 
cxix.  6. 

Without  this  practical  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord ;  and  if  so,  how  great  a  change  must  be  wrought 
on  most  before  they  can  see  him,  for  how  few  are  thus 
adorned  with  a  life  of  universal  holiness  !  Many  profess 
the  name  of  Christ,  but  how  few  of  them  depart  from 
iniquity  !  But  to  what  purpose  do  they  call  him  Master 
and  Lord,  while  they  do  not  the  things  which  he  com- 
mands them  1 

Thus  I  have,  as  plainly  as  I  could,  described  the  na- 
ture and  properties  of  that  holiness,  without  which  no 
man  shall  see  the  Lord ;  and  they  who  are  possessed  of 
it  may  lift  up  their  heads  with  joy,  assured  that  God  has 
begun  a  good  work  in  them,  and  that  he  will  carry  it  on  ; 
and  on  the  other  hand,  they  that  are  destitute  of  it  may 
be  assured,  that  unless  they  are  made  new  creatures 
they  cannot  see  the  Lord.     I  come, 

IL  To  show  you  the  endeavors  we  should  use  to  ob- 
tain this  holiness.     And  they  are  such  as  these  : 

1.  Endeavor  to  know  whether  you  are  holy  or  not  by 
close  examination.     It  is  hard  indeed  for  some  to  know 


HOLLNESS    AND    FELICITY.  169 

positively  that  they  are  holy,  as  they  are  perplexed  with 
the  appearances  of  realities,  and  the  fears  of  coun- 
terfeits ;  but  it  is  then  easy  for  many  to  conclude  ne- 
gatively that  they  are  not  holy,  as  they  have  not  the 
likeness  of  it !  To  determine  this  point  is  of  great  use 
to  our  successful  seeking  after  holiness.  That  an  unre- 
generate  sinner  should  attend  on  the  means  of  grace 
with  other  aims  than  one  that  has  reason  to  believe 
himself  sanctified,  is  evident.  The  anxieties,  sorrows, 
desires,  and  endeavors  of  the  one  should  run  in  a  very 
different  channel  from  those  of  the  other.  The  one 
should  look  upon  himself  as  a  guilty  and  condemned 
sinner ;  the  other  should  allow  himself  the  pleasures  of 
a  justified  state ;  the  one  should  pursue  after  the  im- 
plantation ;  the  other  after  the  increase  of  holiness  :  the 
one  should  indulge  a  seasonable  concern  about  his  lost 
condition ;  the  other  repose  an  humble  confidence  in 
God  as  reconciled  to  him  ;  the  one  should  look  upon  the 
threatenings  of  God  as  his  doom  ;  the  other  embrace  the 
promises  as  his  portion.  Hence  it  follows,  that  while  we 
are  mistaken  about  our  state,  we  cannot  use  endeavors 
after  holiness  in  a  proper  manner.  We  act  like  a  phy- 
sician that  applies  medicines  at  random,  without  know- 
ing the  disease.  It  is  a  certain  conclusion  that  the  most 
generous  charity,  under  scriptural  limitations,  cannot 
avoid,  that  multitudes  are  destitute  of  holiness ;  and 
ought  not  we  to  inquire  with  proper  anxiety  whether  we 
belong  to  that  number  1  Let  us  be  impartial,  and  pro- 
ceed according  to  evidence.  If  we  find  those  marks  of 
holmess  in  heart  and  life  which  have  been  mentioned, 
let  not  an  excessive  scrupulosity  frighten  us  from  draw- 
ing the  happy  conclusion :  and,  if  we  find  them  not,  let 
us  exercise  so  much  wholesome  severity  against  our- 
selves, as  honestly  to  conclude  we  are  unholy  sinners, 
and  must  be  renewed  before  wc  can  see  the  Lord.  The 
conclusion,  no  doubt,  will  give  you  a  painful  anxiety : 
but  if  you  was  my  dearest  friend,  I  could  not  form  a 
kinder  wish  for  you  than  that  you  might  be  incessantly 
distressed  with  it  till  you  are  born  again.  This  conclu- 
sion will  not  be  always  avoidable  ;  the  light  of  eternity 
will  force  you  upon  it ;  and  whether  is  it  better  to  give 
way  to  it  now,  when  it  may  be  to  your  advantage,  or  be 
forced  to  admit  it  then,  when  it  will  be  only  a  torment  1 
15 


170  THE    CONNECTION    BETWEEN 

2.  Awake,  arise,  and  betake  yourselves  in  earnest  to 
all  the  means  of  grace.  Your  life,  your  eternal  life  is 
concerned,  and  therefore  it  calls  for  all  the  ardor  and 
earnestness  you  are  capable  of  exerting.  Accustom 
yourself  to  meditation,  converse  with  yourselves  in  re- 
tirement, and  live  no  longer  strangers  at  home.  Read 
the  word  of  God  and  other  good  books,  with  diligence, 
attention,  and  self-application.  Attend  on  the  public 
ministrations  of  the  gospel,  not  as  a  trifler,  but  as  one 
that  sees  his  eternal  all  concerned.  Shun  the  tents  of 
sin,  the  rendezvous  of  sinners,  and  associate  with  those 
that  have  experienced  the  change  you  want,  and  can 
give  you  proper  directions.  Prostrate  yourself  before 
the  God  of  heaven,  confess  your  sin,  implore  his  mercy, 
cry  to  him  night  and  day,  and  give  him  no  rest,  till  the 
importunity  prevail,  and  you  take  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
by  violence. 

But,  after  all,  acknowledge  that  it  is  God  that  must 
work  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do,  and  that  when  you 
have  done  all  these  things  you  are  but  unprofitable  serv- 
ants. I  do  not  prescribe  these  directions  as  though 
these  means  could  effect  holiness  in  you  ;  no,  they  can 
no  more  do  it  than  a  pen  can  Avrite  without  a  hand.  It 
is  the  holy  Spirit's  province  alone  to  sanctify  a  degene 
rate  sinner,  but  he  is  wont  to  do  it  while  we  are  waiting 
upon  him  in  the  use  of  these  means,  though  our  best  en- 
deavors give  us  no  title  to  his  grace  ;  but  he  may  justly 
leave  us  after  all  in  that  state  of  condemnation  and  cor- 
ruption into  which  we  have  voluntarily  brought  our- 
selves.    I  go  on, 

III.  And  lastly,  to  urge  you  to  the  use  of  these  means, 
from  the  consideration  mentioned  in  the  text,  the  abso- 
lute necessity  of  holiness  to  the  enjoyment  of  heavenly 
happiness. 

Here  I  would  show  that  holiness  is  absolutely  neccs- 
siry,  and  that  the  consideration  of  its  necessity  may 
strongly  enforce  the  pursuit  of  it. 

The  necessity  of  holiness  appears  from  the  unchan- 
geable appointment  of  heaven,  and  the  nature  of  things. 

1.  The  unchangeable  appointment  of  God  excludes  all 
the  unholy  from  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  see  1  Cor.  ix. 
6  ;  Rev.  xxi.  27  ;  Psalm  v.  4,  5  ;  2  Cor.  v.  17  ;  Gal.  vi.  15 
It  is  most  astonishing  that  many  who  profess  to  believe 


HOLII^ESS    AI^D    FELICITY.  171 

the  divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures,  will  yet  indulge 
vain  hopes  of  heaven  in  opposition  to  the  plainest  decla- 
rations of  eternal  truth.  But  though  there  were  no 
positive  constitution  excluding  the  unholy  from  heaven, 
yet 

2.  The  very  nature  of  things  excludes  sinners  from 
heaven  ;  that  is,  it  is  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that  while  they  are  unholy,  they  could  receive  happiness 
from  the  employments  and  entertainments  of  the  hea- 
venly world.  If  these  consisted  in  the  affluence  of 
those  things  which  sinners  delight  in  here  ;  if  its  enjoy- 
ments were  earthly  riches,  pleasures,  and  honors  ;  if  its 
employments  were  the  amusements  of  the  present  life, 
then  they  might  be  happy  there,  as  far  as  their  sordid 
natures  are  capable  of  happiness.  But  these  trifles  have 
no  place  in  heaven.  The  felicity  of  that  state  consists 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  divine  perfections,  and  their 
displays  in  the  works  of  creation,  providence,  and  re- 
demption ;  hence  it  is  described  by  seeing  the  Lord. 
Matt.  V.  18,  and  as  a  state  of  knowledge,  1  Cor.  xiii.  10 
— 12,  in  the  satisfaction  resulting  thence.  Ps.  xvii.  15, 
and  a  complacency  in  God  as  a  portion,  Ps.  Ixxiii.  25, 
26,  and  is  perpetual  serving  and  praising  the  Lord  :  and 
hence  adoration  is  generally  mentioned  as  the  employ  of 
all  the  hosts  of  heaven.  These  are  the  entertainments 
of  heaven,  and  they  that  cannot  find  supreme  happiness 
in  these,  cannot  find  it  in  heaven.  But  it  is  evident 
these  things  could  afford  no  satisfaction  to  an  unholy 
person.  He  would  pine  away  at  the  heavenly  feast,  for 
want  of  appetite  for  the  entertainment  ;  a  holy  God 
would  be  an  object  of  horror  rather  than  delight  to  him, 
and  his  service  would  be  a  weariness,  as  it  is  now. 
Hence  it  appears,  that  if  we  do  not  place  our  supreme 
delight  in  these  things  here,  we  cannot  be  happy  here- 
after ;  for  there  will  be  no  change  of  dispositions  in  a 
future  state,  but  only  the  perfection  of  those  predomi- 
nant in  us  here,  whether  good  or  evil.  Either  heaven 
must  be  changed,  or  the  sinner,  before  he  can  be  happy 
there.  Hence  also  it  appears,  that  God's  excluding 
such  from  heaven  is  no  more  an  act  of  cruelty  than  our 
not  admitting  a  sick  man  to  a  feast,  who  has  no  relish 
for  the  entertainments  ;  or  not  bringing  a  blind  man  into 
the  light  of  the  sun,  or  to  view  a  beautiful  prospect. 


172  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

We  see  then  that  holiness  is  absolutely  necessary  j 
and  what  a  great  inducement  should  this  consideration 
be  to  pursue  it ;  if  we  do  not  see  the  Lord,  we  shall  ne- 
ver see  good.  We  are  cut  off  at  death  from  all  earthly 
enjoyments,  and  can  no  longer  make  experiments  to  sat- 
isfy our  unbounded  desires  with  them  ;  and  we  have  no 
God  to  supply  their  room.  We  are  banished  from  all 
the  joys  of  heaven,  and  how  vast,  how  inconceivably  vast 
is  the  loss !  We  are  doomed  to  the  regions  of  darkness 
for  ever,  to  bear  the  vengeance  of  eternal  fire,  to  feel  the 
lashes  of  a  guilty  conscience,  and  to  spend  an  eternity  in 
a  horrid  intimacy  with  infernal  ghosts ;  and  will  we  not 
then  rather  follow  holiness,  than  incur  so  dreadful  a 
doom  1  By  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  then,  be  persuaded 
to  break  off  your  sins  by  righteousness,  and  follow  holi- 
ness ;  without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord. 


SERMON  X. 

THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND    GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST. 

John  xviii.  37.  Pilate  therefore  said  unto  him^  Art  thou 
a  king  then  ?  Jesus  answered^  Thou  sayest  that  I  am  a 
king.  To  this  end  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I 
into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto  the  truth. 

Kings  and  kingdoms  are  the  most  majestic  sounds  in 
the  language  of  mortals,  and  have  filled  the  w^orld  with 
noise,  confusions,  and  blood,  since  mankind  first  left  the 
state  of  nature,  and  formed  themselves  into  societies. 
The  disputes  of  kingdoms  for  superiority  have  set  the 
world  in  arms  from  age  to  age,  and  destroyed  or  enslav- 
ed a  considerable  part  of  the  human  race  ;  and  the  con- 
test is  not  yet  decided.  Our  country  has  been  a  region 
of  peace  and  tranquillity  for  a  long  time,  but  it  has  not 
been  because  the  lust  of  power  and  riches  is  extinct  in 
the  world,  but  because  we  had  no  near  neighbors  whose 
interest  might  clash  with  ours,  or  w^ho  were  able  to  dis- 
turb us.     The  absence  of  an  enemv  was  our  sole  de- 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  173 

fence.  But  now,  when  the  colonies  of  the  sundry  Suro- 
pean  nations  on  this  continent  begin  to  enlarge,  and  ap- 
proach towards  each  other,  the  scene  is  changed  ;  now 
encroachments,  depredations,  barbarities,  and  all  the 
terrors  of  war  begin  to  surround  and  alarm  us.  Now 
our  country  is  invaded  and  ravaged,  and  bleeds  in  a 
thousand  veins.  We  have  already,*  so  early  in  the 
year,  received  alarm  upon  alarm  :  and  we  may  expect 
the  alarms  to  grow  louder  and  louder  as  the  season  ad- 
vances. 

These  commotions  and  perturbations  have  had  one 
good  effect  upon  me,  and  that  is,  they  have  carried 
away  my  thoughts  of  late  into  a  serene  and  peaceful  re- 
gion, a  region  beyond  the  reach  of  confusion  and  vio- 
lence ;  I  mean  the  kingdom  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
And  thither,  my  brethren,  I  would  also  transport  your 
minds  this  day,  as  the  best  refuge  from  this  boisterous 
world,  and  the  most  agreeable  mansion  for  the  lovers  of 
peace  and  tranquillity.  I  find  it  advantageous  both  to 
you  and  myself,  to  entertain  you  with  those  subjects  that 
have  made  the  deepest  impression  upon  my  own  mind  : 
and  this  is  the  reason  why  I  choose  the  present  subject. 
In  my  text  you  hear  one  entering  a  claim  to  a  kingdom, 
whom  you  would  conclude,  if  you  regarded  only  his  out- 
»vard  appearance,  to  be  the  meanest  and  vilest  of  man- 
kind. To  hear  a  powerful  prince,  at  the  head  of  a  vic- 
torious army,  attended  with  all  the  royalties  of  his  cha- 
racter, to  hear  such  an  one  claim  the  kingdom  he  had 
acquired  by  force  of  arm«,  would  not  be  strange.  But 
here  the  despised  Nazarene,  rejected  by  his  nation,  for- 
saken by  his  followers,  accused  as  the  worst  of  crimi- 
nals, standing  defenceless  at  Pilate's  bar,  just  about  to  be 
condemned  and  hung  on  a  cross,  like  a  malefactor  and  a 
slave,  here  he  speaks  in  a  royal  style,  even  to  his  judge, 
/  am  a  King :  for  this  purpose  was  I  bor?i,  and  for  this 
cause  came  I  into  the  world.  Strange  language  indeed  to 
proceed  from  his  hps  in  these  circumstances  !  But  the 
truth  is,  a  great,  a  divine  personage  is  concealed  under 
this  disguise  ;  and  his  kingdom  is  of  such  a  nature,  that 
his  abasement  and  crucifixion  were  so  far  from  being  a 
hinderance  to  it,  that  they  were  the  only  way  to  acquire 

♦  This  sermon  was  preached  in  Hanover,  Virginia,  May  9,  1756. 
15* 


l'^4'  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

it      These  snfTering-s  were  meritorious  ;  and  by  these  he 
jurchased  his  subjects,  and  a  right  to  rule  them. 

The  occasion  of  these  words  was  this  :  the  unbeliev- 
ing- Jews  were  determined  to  put  Jesus  to  death  as  an 
impostor.  The  true  reason  of  their  opposition  to  him 
was,  that  he  had  severely  exposed  their  hypocrisy,  claim- 
ed the  character  of  the  Messiah,  without  answering  their 
expectations  as  a  temporal  prince  and  a  mighty  con- 
queror ;  and  introduced  a  new  religion,  which  supersed- 
ed the  law  of  Moses,  in  which  they  had  been  educated. 
But  this  reason  they  knew  would  have  but  little  weight 
Avith  Pilate  the  Roman  governor,  who  was  a  heathen, 
and  had  no  regard  to  their  religion.  They  therefore 
bring  a  charge  of  another  kind,  which  they  knew  would 
touch  the  governor  very  sensibly,  and  that  was,  that  Christ 
had  set  himself  up  as  the  King  of  the  Jews  ;  which  was 
treason  against  Caesar  the  Roman  emperor,  under  whose 
yoke  they  then  were.  This  was  all  pretence  and  artifice. 
They  would  now  seem  to  be  very  loyal  to  the  emper- 
or, and  unable  to  bear  with  any  claims  inconsistent  with 
his  authority  ;  whereas,  in  truth,  they  were  impatient  of 
a  foreign  government,  and  were  watching  for  any  oppor- 
tunity to  shake  it  ofil  And  had  Christ  been  really  guilty 
of  the  charge  they  alleged  against  him,  he  would  have 
been  the  more  acceptable  to  them.  Had  he  set  himself 
up  as  a  king  of  the  Jews,  in  opposition  to  Caesar,  and 
employed  his  miraculous  powers  to  make  good  his  claim, 
the  whole  nation  would  have  welcomed  him  as  their  de- 
liverer, and  flocked  round  his  standard.  But  Jesus  came 
not  to  work  a  deliverance  of  this  kind,  nor  to  erect  such 
a  kingdom  as  they  desired,  and  therefore  they  rejected 
him  as  an  impostor.  This  charge,  however,  they  bring 
against  him,  in  order  to  carry  their  point  with  the  hea- 
then governor.  They  knew  he  was  zealous  for  the  honor 
and  interest  of  Ccesar  his  master  ;  and  Tiberius,  the  then 
Roman  emperor,  was  so  jealous  a  prince,  and  kept  so 
many  spies  over  his  governors  in  all  the  provinces,  that 
they  were  obliged  to  be  very  circumspect,  and  show  the 
strictest  regard  for  his  rights,  in  order  to  escape  degra- 
dation, or  a  severer  punishment.  It  was  this  that  deter- 
mined Pilate,  in  the  struggle  with  his  conscience,  to  con- 
demn the  innocent  Jesus.  He  was  afraid  the  Jews  would 
inform  against  him,  as  dismissing  one  that  set  up  as  the 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  175 

rival  of  Caesar ;  and  the  consequence  of  this  he  well 
knew  The  Jews  were  sensible  of  this,  and  therefore 
they  insist  upon  this  charge,  and  at  length  plainly  te^ 
him,  If  thou  let  this  man  go^  thou  art  not  CcEsar'^s  friend. 
Pilate,  therefore,  who  cared  but  little  what  innovations 
Christ  should  introduce  into  the  Jewish  religion,  thought 
proper  to  inquire  into  this  matter,  and  asks  him,  "  Art 
thou  the  King  of  the  Jews  \  "  dost  thou,  indeed,  claim 
such  a  character,  which  may  interfere  with  Cajsar's  gov- 
ernment \  Jesus  replies,  Mtj  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ; 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  do  not  deny  that  I  claim  a  king- 
dom, but  it  is  of  such  a  nature,  that  it  need  give  no  alarm 
to  the  kings  of  the  earth.  Their  kingdoms  are  of  this 
world,  bat  mine  is  spiritual  and  divine,*  and  therefore 
cannot  interfere  with  theirs.  If  my  kingdom  were  of 
this  world,  like  theirs,  I  would  take  the  same  methods 
with  them  to  obtain  and  secure  it ;  my  servants  would 
fight  for  me,  that  I  should  not  be  delivered  to  the  Jews ; 
but  now,  you  see,  I  use  no  such  means  for  my  defence, 
or  to  raise  me  to  my  kingdom  :  and  therefore  you  may 
be  assured  my  kingdom  is  not  from  hence,  and  can  give 
the  Roman  emperor  no  umbrage  for  suspicion  or  uneasi- 
ness." Pilate  answers  to  this  purpose  :  Thou  dost,  how- 
ever, speak  of  a  kingdom  ;  and  art  thou  a  king  then  ?  dost 
thou  in  any  sense  claim  that  character  \  The  poor  pri- 
soner boldly  replies.  Thou  sayest  that  I  am  a  king  ;  that 
is,  "  Thou  hast  struck  upon  the  truth  :  I  am  indeed  a 
king,  in  a  certain  sense,  and  nothing  shall  constrain  me 
to  renounce  the  title.  To  this  end  was  I  born^  and  for 
this  cause  came  I  into  the  world^  that  I  should  hear  witness 
to  the  truth  ;  particularly  to  this  truth,  which  now  looks 
so  unlikely,  namely,  that  I  am  really  a  king.  I  was  born 
to  a  kingdom  and  a  crown,  and  came  into  the  world  to 
take  possession  of  my  right."  This  is  that  good  confes- 
sion which  St.  Paul  tells  us,  1  Tim.  vi.  13,  our  Lord  wit- 
nessed before  Pontius  Pilate.  Neither  the  hopes  of  de- 
liverance, nor  the  terrors  of  death,  could  cause  him  to 
retract  it,  or  renounce  his  claim. 

In  prosecuting  this  subject  I   intend  only  to  inquire 

*  Domitian,  the  Roman  emperor,  bein^  apprehensive  that  Christ's 
earthly  relations  might  claim  a  kingdom  m  liis  right,  inquired  of  them 
concerning  the  nature  of  his  kingdom,  and  when  and  whore  it  should  be 
set  up.  They  replied,  "  It  was  not  earthly,  but  heavenly  and  angelical, 
and  to  be  set  up  at  the  end  of  the  world." 


176  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

into  the  nature  and  properties  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 
And  in  order  to  render  my  discourse  the  more  familiar, 
and  to  adapt  it  to  the  present  state  of  our  country,  I  shall 
consider  this  kingdom  in  contrast  withthe  kingdoms  of 
the  earth,  with  which  we  are  better  acquainted. 

The  scriptures  represent  the  Lord  Jesus  under  a  great 
variety  of  characters,  which,  though  insufficient  fully  to 
represent  him,  yet,  in  conjunction,  assist  us  to  form 
such  exalted  ideas  of  this  great  personage  as  mortals  can 
reach.  He  is  a  Surety,  that  undertook  and  paid  the 
dreadful  debt  of  obedience  and  suffering,  which  sinners 
owed  to  the  divine  justice  and  law :  He  is  a  Priest,  a 
great  High  Priest,  that  once  offered  himself  as  a  sacrifice 
for  sin  ;  and  now  dwells  in  his  native  heaven,  at  his  Fa- 
ther's right  hand,  as  the  advocate  and  intercessor  of  his 
people  :  He  is  a  Prophet,  who  teaches  his  church,  in  all 
ages,  by  his  word  and  spirit :  He  is  the  supreme  and 
universal  Judge,  to  whom  men  and  angels  are  account- 
able ;  and  his  name  is  Jesus,  a  Savior,  because  he  saves 
his  people  from  their  sins.  Under  these  august  and  en- 
dearing characters  he  is  often  represented.  But  there 
is  one  character  under  Avhich  he  is  uniformly  represent- 
ed, both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  and  that  is,  that 
of  a  King,  a  great  King,  invested  with  universal  author- 
ity. And  upon  his  appearance  in  the  flesh,  all  nature, 
and  especially  the  gospel-church,  is  represented  as  placed 
under  him,  as  his  kingdom.  Under  this  idea  the  Jews 
were  taught  by  their  prophets  to  look  for  him ;  and  it 
was  their  understanding  these  predictions  of  some  illus- 
trious king  that  should  rise  from  the  house  of  David,  in 
a  literal  and  carnal  sense,  that  occasioned  their  unhappy 
prejudices  concerning  the  Messiah  as  a  secular  prince 
and  conqueror  Under  this  idea  the  Lord  Jesus  repre- 
sented himself  while  upon  earth,  and  under  this  idea  he 
was  published  to  the  world  by  his  apostles.  The  great- 
est kings  of  the  Jewish  nation,  particularly  David  and 
Solomon,  Avere  types  of  him :  and  many  things  are  pri- 
marily applied  to  them,  which  have  their  complete  and 
final  accomplishment  in  him  alone.  It  is  to  him  ulti- 
mately wc  are  to  apply  the  second  psalm  :  "  I  have  set 
my  King,"  says  Jehovah,  "  upon  my  holy  hill  of  Zion. 
Ask  of  me,  and  I  will  give  thee  the  heathen  for  thy  in- 
heritance, and  the  utmost  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  pos- 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  177 

If  we  read  the  seventy-second 
Psalm  we  shall  easily  perceive  that  one  greater  than  So- 
lomon is  there.  "In  his  days  shall  the  righteous  flou- 
rish ;  and  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the  moon  en- 
dureth.  All  kings  shall  fall  doAvn  before  him  ;  all  na- 
tions shall  serve  him.  His  name  shall  continue  for  ever  ; 
his  name  shall  endure  as  long  as  the  sun  :  and  men  shall 
be  blessed  in  him ;  and  all  nations  shall  call  him  bless- 
ed:  Psalm  Ixxxii.  7.  11.  17. 

The  hundred  and  tenth  Psalm  is  throughout  a  celebra- 
tion of  the  kingly  and  priestly  office  of  Christ  united. 
The  Lord^  says  David,  said  unto  my  Lord^  unto  that  di- 
vine person  who  is  my  Lord,  and  will  also  be  my  son, 
sit  thou  at  my  right  hand^  in  the  highest  honor  and  author- 
ity, until  I  make  thine  enemies  thy  footstool.  Rule  thou 
in  the  midst  of  thine  enemies.  Thy  people  shall  he  wil- 
ling in  the  day  of  thy  power,  and  submit  to  thee  in  crowds 
as  numerous  as  the  drops  of  the  morning  dew.  Ps.  ex. 
1 — 3.  The  evangelical  prophet  Isaiah  is  often  trans- 
ported with  the  foresight  of  this  illustrious  king,  and  the 
glorious  kingdom  of  his  grace  : — "  Unto  us  a  child  is 
born,  unto  us  a  son  is  given ;  and  the  government  shall 
be  upon  his  shoulder  ;  and  he  shall  be  called — the  Prince 
of  Peace.  Of  the  increase  of  his  government  and  peace 
there  shall  be  no  end,  upon  the  throne  of  David  and  upon 
his  kingdom,  to  order  and  to  establish  it  with  judgment 
and  with  justice,  from  henceforth  even  for  ever."  Isa.  ix. 
6,  7.  This  is  he  who  is  described  as  another  David  in 
Ezekiel's  prophecy,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  take 
the  children  of  Israel  from  among  the  heathen.  And  I 
will  make  them  one  nation — and  one  king  shall  be 
king  to  them  all,  even  David  my  servant  shall  be  king 
over  them."  Ezek.  xxxvii.  21,  22,  2J'.  This  is  the  king- 
dom represented  to  Nebuchadnezzar  m  his  dream,  as  "  a 
stone  cut  out  without  hands,  which  became  a  great 
mountain,  and  filled  the  whole  earth."  And  Daniel,  in 
expounding  the  dream,  having  described  the  Babylonian, 
the  Persian,  the  Grecian,  and  Roman  empires,  subjoins, 
"  In  the  days  of  these  kings,"  that  is,  of  the  Roman  em- 
perors, "  shall  the  God  of  heaven  set  up  a  kingdom, 
which  shall  never  be  destroyed  •  and  the  kingdom  shall 
not,"  like  the  former,  -be  left  co  omer  peopie  j  out  ic 
ahall  break  in  pieces  and  consume  all   these  kingdoms, 


178  THE    MEDIATORIAL   KINGDOM    AND 

and  it  shall  stand  for  ever."  Dan.  ii.  34,  35,  44.  There 
is  no  character  which  our  Lord  so  often  assumed  in  the 
days  of  his  flesh  as  that  of  the  Son  of  man ;  and  he  no 
doubt  alludes  to  a  majestic  vision  in  Daniel,  the  only 
place  where  this  character  is  given  him  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament :  "  I  saw  in  the  night  visions,"  says  Daniel,  "  and 
behold  one  like  the  Son  of  Man  came  to  the  Ancient  of 
days,  and  there  was  given  to  him  dominion,  and  glory, 
and  a  kingdom,  that  all  people,  nations,  and  languages, 
should  serve  him :  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting  domi- 
nion, which  shall  not  pass  away,  and  his  kingdom  that 
which  shall  not  be  destroyed,"  Dan.  vii.  13,  14,  like  the 
tottering  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  which  are  perpetually 
rising  and  falling.  This  is  the  king  that  Zechariah  re- 
fers to  when,  in  prospect  of  his  triumphant  entrance  into 
Jerusalem,  he  calls  the  inhabitants  to  give  a  proper  re- 
ception to  so  great  a  Prince.  "  Rejoice  greatly,  O 
daughter  of  Zion  ;  shout,  O  daughter  of  Jerusalem :  be- 
hold thy  King  cometh  unto  thee,"  «fec.  Zech.  ix.  9.  Thus 
the  prophets  conspire  to  ascribe  royal  titles  and  a  glo- 
rious kingdom  to  the  Messiah.  And  these  early  and 
plain  notices  of  him  raised  a  general  expectation  of  him 
under  this  royal  character.  It  was  from  these  prophe- 
cies concerning  him  as  a  king,  that  the  Jews  took  occa- 
sion, as  I  observed,  to  look  for  the  Messiah  as  a  tempo- 
ral prince  ;  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  the  apostles 
themselves  were  delivered  from  these  carnal  prejudices. 
They  were  solicitous  about  posts  of  honor  in  that  tem- 
poral kingdom  which  they  expected  he  would  set  up  : 
and  even  after  his  resurrection,  they  cannot  forbear  ask- 
ing him,  "  Lord,  wilt  thou  at  this  time  restore  again  the 
kingdom  to  Israel '?"  Acts  i.  6,  that  is,  "  Wilt  thou  now 
restore  the  Jews  to  their  former  liberty  and  independen- 
cy, and  deliver  them  from  their  present  subjection  to  the 
Romans'?"  It  was  under  this  view  that  Herod  was 
alarmed  at  his  birth,  and  shed  the  blood  of  so  many  in- 
nocents, that  he  might  not  escape.  He  was  afraid  of 
liim  as  the  heir  of  David's  family  and  crown,  who  might 
dispossess  him  of  the  government ;  nay,  he  was  expect- 
ed by  other  nations  under  the  character  of  a  mighty 
king  ;  and  they  no  doubt  learned  this  notion  of  him  from 
he  Jewish  prophecies,  as  well  as  their  conversation  with 
that   people.      Hence  the   Magi,  or  eastern  wise  men, 


GLOrJES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  179 

when  they  came  to  pay  homage  to  him  upon  his  birth, 
inquired  after  him  in  this  language, — "Where  is  he  that 
is  born  King  of  the  Jews  1"  Matt.  ii.  2.  And  what  is 
still  more  remarkable,  we  are  told  by  two  heathen  histo- 
rians, that  about  the  time  of  his  appearance  a  general 
expectation  of  him  under  this  character  prevailed  through 
the  world.  "  Many,"  says  Tacitus,  "  had  a  persuasion 
that  it  was  contained  in  the  ancient  writings  of  the 
priests,  that  at  that  very  time  the  east  should  prevail, 
and  that  some  descendant  from  Judah  should  obtain  the 
universal  government."*  Suetonius  speaks  to  the  same 
purpose :  "  An  old  and  constant  opinion,"  says  he, 
"  commonly  prevailed  through  all  the  east,  that  it  was  in 
the  tates,  that  some  should  rise  out  of  Judea,  \vho  should 
obtain  the  government  of  the  world."f  This  royal  cha- 
racter Christ  himself  assumed,  even  when  he  conversed 
among  mortals  in  the  humble  form  of  a  servant.  "  The 
Father,"  says  he,  "  has  given  me  power  over  all  flesh." 
John  xvii.  2.  Yea,  "  all  powder  in  heaven  and  earth  is 
given  to  me,"  Matt,  xxviii.  13.  The  gospel  church 
which  he  erected  is  most  commonly  called  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  or  of  God,  in  the  evangelists  :  and  when  he 
was  about  to  introduce  it,  this  was  the  proclamation  : 
"  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand."  Under  this  charac- 
ter also  his  servants  and  disciples  celebrated  and  preached 
him.  Gabriel  led  the  song  in  foretelling  his  birth  to  his 
mother.  "  He  shall  be  great,  and  the  Lord  shall  give  unto 
him  the  throne  of  his  father  David ;  and  he  shall  reign 
over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever  :  and  of  his  kingdom 
there  shall  be  no  end."  Luke  i.  32,  33.  St.  Paul  boldly 
tells  the  murderers  of  Christ,  "  God  hath  made  that 
same  Jesus  whom  you  crucified,  both  Lord  and  Christ," 
Acts  ii.  36  ;  "  and  exalted  him,  with  his  own  right  hand, 
to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Savior."  Acts  v.  31.  And  St.  Paul 
repeatedly  represents  him  as  advanced  "  far  above  prin- 
cipality, and  power,  and  might,  and  dominion,  and  every 

*  Pluribus  persuasio  inerut,  antiquis  sacerdotum  Uteris  contmcri,  eo 
ipso  tempore  lore,  ut  valescerat  oriens  profectique  Judea  rerum  poliren- 
tur.     Tacit.  Hist.  lib.  v.  jap.  13, 

t  Percrebuerat  oriente  toto  vetus  &  constans  opinio,  esse  m  fatis,  ut  eo 
tempore  Judea  profecti  rerum  potircutur.     Suet,  in  Vesp.  c.  4. 

The  sameness  of  the  exj)eclation  is  remarkably  evident,  from  the  same- 
ness of  the  words  in  which  these  two  historians  express  it.  Judea  pro- 
fecti  rerum  potirentiir.  It  was  not  only  a  common  expectation,  but  it 
was  commonly  expressed  in  the  same  language. 


180  THE    MEDIATOELAL    KLXGDO^I    AND 

name  that  is  named,  not  only  in  this  world,  but  also  in 
that  which  is  to  come  :  and  that  God  hath  put  all  things 
under  his  feet,  and  given  him  to  be  the  head  over  all 
things  to  his  church."  Eph.  i.  21,22;  Phil.  ii.  9-11. 
Yea,  to  him  all  the  hosts  of  heaven,  and  even  the  whole 
creation  in  concert,  ascribe  "power  and  strength,  and 
honor,  and  glory,"  Rev.  v.  12.  Pilate  the  heathen  was 
overruled  to  give  a  kind  of  accidental  testimony  to  this 
truth,  and  to  publish  it  to  different  nations,  by  the  in- 
scription upon  the  cross  in  the  three  languages  then 
most  in  use,  the  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew :  "  This  is 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jew  s  ;"  and  all  the  re- 
monstrances of  the  Jews  could  not  prevail  upon  him  to 
alter  it.  Finally,  it  is  he  that  w^ears  "  upon  his  vesture, 
and  upon  his  thigh,  this  name  written.  King  of  Kings, 
and  Lord  of  Lords,"  Rev.  xix.  16  ;  and  as  his  name  is, 
so  is  he. 

Thus  you  see,  my  brethren,  by  these  instances,  select- 
ed out  of  many,  that  the  kingly  character  and  dominion 
of  our  LorJ  Jesus  runs  through  the  whole  Bible.  That 
of  a  king  is  his  favorite  character,  in  which  he  glories, 
and  which  is  the  most  expressive  of  his  office.  And 
this  consideration  alone  may  convince  you  that  this 
character  is  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  w^orthy  of 
your  most  attentive  regard. 

It  is  the  mediatorial  kingdom  of  Christ  that  is  here 
intended,  not  that  which  as  God  he  exercises  over  all 
the  works  of  his  hand:  it  is  that  kingdom  which  is  an 
empire  of  grace,  an  administration  of  mercy  over  our 
guilty  world.  It  is  the  dispensation  intended  for  the 
salvation  of  fallen  sinners  of  our  race  by  the  gospel ;  and 
on  this  account  the  gospel  is  often  called  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  ;  because  its  happy  consequences  are  not  confined 
to  this  earth,  but  appear  in  heaven  in  the  highest  perfec- 
tion, and  last  through  all  eternity.  Hence,  not  only  the 
church  of  Christ  on  earth,  and  the  dispensation  of  the 
gospel,  but  all  the  saints  in  heaven,  and  that  more  finish- 
ed economy  under  which  they  are  placed,  are  all  includ- 
ed in  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Here  his  kingdom  is  in  its 
infancy,  but  in  heaven  is  arrived  to  perfection  ;  but  it  is 
substantially  the  same.  Though  the  immediate  design 
of  this  kingdom  is  the  salvation  of  believers  of  the  guilty 
race  of   man,    and   such  are  its   subjects   in   a  peculiar 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  181 

sense  ;  yet  it  extends  to  all  worlds,  to  heaven,  and  earth, 
and  hell.  The  whole  universe  is  put  under  a  mediatorial 
head  :  but  then,  as  the  apostle  observes,  "  he  is  made 
head  over  all  things  to  his  church,"  Eph.  i.  22  ;  that  is, 
for  the  benefit  and  salvation  of  his  church.  As  Mediator 
he  is  carrying  on  a  glorious  scheme  for  the  recovery  of 
man,  and  all  parts  of  the  universe  are  interested  or  con- 
cern themselves  in  this  grand  event ;  and  therefore  they 
are  all  subjected  to  him,  that  he  may  so  manage  them  as 
to  promote  this  end,  and  baffle  and  overwhelm  all  oppo- 
sition. The  elect  angels  rejoice  in  so  benevolent  a  de- 
sign for  peopling  their  mansions,  left  vacant  by  the 
fall  of  so  many  of  their  fellow-angels,  with  colonies 
transplanted  from  our  world,  from  a  race  of  creatures 
that  they  had  given  for  lost.  And  therefore  Christ 
as  a  Mediator,  is  made  the  head  of  all  the  heavenly 
armies,  and  he  employs  them  as  "  his  ministering  spirits, 
to  minister  to  them  that  are  heirs  of  salvation."  Heb.  i. 
14".  These  glorious  creatures  are  always  on  the  wing, 
ready  to  discharge  his  orders  in  any  part  of  his  vast  em- 
pire, and  delight  to  be  employed  in  the  services  of  his 
mediatorial  kingdom.  This  is  also  an  event  in  which 
the  fallen  angels  deeply  interest  themselves  ;  they  have 
united  all  their  force  and  art  for  near  six  thousand  years 
to  disturb  and  subvert  his  kingdom,  and  blast  the  designs 
of  redeeming  love  ;  they  therefore  are  all  subjected  to 
the  control  of  Christ,  and  he  shortens  and  lengthens 
their  chains  as  he  pleases,  and  they  cannot  go  a  hair's 
breadth  beyond  his  permission.  The  scriptures  repre- 
sent our  world  in  its  state  of  guilt  and  misery  as  the 
kingdom  of  Satan ;  sinners,  while  slaves  to  sin,  are  his 
subjects  ;  and  every  act  of  disobedience  against  God  is 
an  act  of  homage  to  this  infernal  prince.  Hence  Satan 
is  called  the  god  of  this  world,,  2  Cor.  iv.  4  ;  the  'prince  of 
this  world,,  John  xii.  31  ;  the  power  of  darkness,,  Luke  xxii. 
53 ;  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air,,  the  Spirit  that  now 
worketh  in  the  children  of  disobedie?ice.  Eph.  ii.  3.  And 
sinners  are  said  to  be  taken  captive  by  him  at  his  will. 
2  Tim.  ii.  26.  Hence  also  the  ministers  of  Christ,  who 
are  employed  to  recover  sinners  to  a  state  of  holiness 
and  happiness,  are  represented  as  soldiers  armed  for 
war  ;  not  indeed  with  carnal  weapons,  but  with  those 
which  are  spiritual,  plain  truth  arguments,  and  miracles ; 
16 


182  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

and  "  these  are  made  mighty  through  God  to  the  pulliag 
down  of  strongholds,  casting  down  imaginations,  and 
every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against  the  know- 
ledge of  God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every  thought 
to  the  obedience  of  Christ."  2  Cor.  x.  3,  4,  5.  And  Chris- 
tians in  general  are  represented  as  "wrestling,  not  with 
flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities,  against  pow- 
ers, against  the  rulers  of  the  darkness  of  this  world, 
against  spiritual  wickednesses  in  high  places."  Eph.  vi. 
12.  Hence  also  in  particular  it  is,  that  the  death  of 
Christ  is  represented  not  as  a  defeat,  but  as  an  illustri- 
ous conquest  gained  over  the  powers  of  hell ;  because, 
by  this  means,  a  way  was  opened  for  the  deliverance  of 
sinners  from  under  their  power,  and  restoring  them  unto 
liberty  and  the  favor  of  God.  By  that  strange,  con- 
temptible weapon,  the  cross,  and  by  the  glorious  resur- 
rection of  Jesus,  he  "  spoiled  principalities  and  powers, 
and  made  a  show  of  them  openly,  triumphing  over  them." 
Col.  ii.  15.  "  Through  death,"  says  the  apostle,  "  he 
destroyed  him  that  had  the  power  of  death ;  that  is,  the 
devil."  Heb.  ii.  14.  Had  not  Christ  by  his  death  offered 
a  propitiatory  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men,  they  would 
have  continued  for  ever  under  the  tyranny  of  Satan  ; 
but  he  has  purchased  liberty,  life,  and  salvation  for 
them  ;  and  thus  he  hath  destroyed  the  kingdom  of  dark- 
ness, and  translated  multitudes  from  it  into  his  own  gra- 
cious and  glorious  kingdom. 

Hence,  upon  the  right  of  redemption,  his  mediatorial 
authority  extends  to  the  infernal  regions,  and  he  con- 
trols and  restrains  those  malignant,  mighty,  and  turbu- 
lent potentates,  according  to  his  pleasure.  Farther,  the 
inanimate  world  is  connected  with  our  Lord's  design  to 
save  sinners,  and  therefore  is  subjected  to  him  as  Medi- 
ator. He  causes  the  sun  to  rise,  the  rain  to  fall,  and  the 
earth  to  yield  her  increase,  to  furnish  provision  for  the 
subjects  of  his  grace,  and  to  raise,  support,  and  accom- 
modate heirs  for  his  heavenly  kingdom.  As  for  the 
sons  of  men,  who  are  more  immediately  concerned  in 
this  kingdom,  and  for  whose  sake  it  was  erected,  they 
are  all  its  subjects  ;  but  then  they  are  of  different  sorts, 
according  to  their  characters.  Multitudes  are  rebels 
against  his  government  ;  that  is,  they  do  not  voluntarily 
submit  to  his  authority,  nor  choose  they  to  do  his  ser 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  189 

vice :  they  will  not  obey  his  laws.  But  they  are  liis 
subjects  notwithstanding  ;  that  is,  he  rules  and  manages 
them  as  he  pleases,  whether  they  will  or  not.  This 
power  is  necessary  to  carry  on  successfully  his  gracious 
design  towards  his  people  ;  for  unless  he  had  the  man- 
agement of  his  enemies,  they  might  baffle  his  undertak- 
ings, and  successfully  counteract  the  purposes  of  his 
love.  The  kings  of  the  earth,  as  well  as  vulgar  rebels 
of  a  private  character,  have  often  set  themselves  against 
his  kingdom,  and  sometimes  they  have  flattered  them- 
selves they  had  entirely  demolished  it.*  But  Jesus 
reigns  absolute  and  supreme  over  the  kings  of  the  earth, 
and  overrules  and  controls  them  as  he  thinks  proper ; 
and  he  disposes  all  the  revolutions,  the  rises  and  falls  of 
kingdoms  and  empires,  so  as  to  be  subservient  to  the 
great  designs  of  his  mediation  ;  and  their  united  policies 
and  powers  cannot  frustrate  the  work  which  he  has  un- 
dertaken. But  besides  these  rebellious,  involuntary 
subjects,  he  has  (blessed  be  his  name !)  gained  the  con- 
sent of  thousands,  and  they  have  become  his  willing 
subjects  by  their  own  choice.  They  regard  his  authori- 
ty, they  love  his  government,  they  make  it  their  study 
to  please  him,  and  to  do  his  will.  Over  these  he  exer- 
cises a  government  of  special  grace  here,  and  he  will 
make  them  the  happy  subjects  of  the  kingdom  of  his 
glory  hereafter.  And  it  is  his  government  over  these 
that  I  intend  more  particularly  to  consider.  Once  more, 
the  kingdom  of  Jesus  is  not  confined  to  this  world,  but 
all  the  millions  of  mankind  in  the  invisible  world  are 
under  his  dominion,  and  will  continue  so  to  everlasting 
ages.  He  is  the  Lord  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living,  Eom. 
xiv.  9,  and  has  the  keys  of  Hades,  the  vast  invisible  world, 
(including  heaven  as  well  as  hell)  and  of  death.  Rev.  i. 
18.  It  is  he  that  turns  the  key,  and  opens  the  door  of 
death  for  mortals  to  pass  from  world  to  world  :  it  is  he 
that  opens  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  welcomes  and  ad- 
mits the  nations  that  keep  the  commandments  of  God  : 
and  it  is  he  that  opens  the  prison  of  hell,  and  locks  it 
fast  upon  the  prisoners  of  divine  justice.  He  will  for 
ever  exercise  authority  over  the  vast  regions  of  the  un- 

*  In  the  lOth  and  last  Roman  persecution,  Dioclesian  had  a  msdal 
struck  with  thit; inscription,  "The  Christian  name  demolished,  and  lira 
worship  of  the  ^ods  restored." 


I8i  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

seen  world,  and  the  unnumbered  multitudes  of  spirits 
with  which  they  are  peopled.  You  hence  see,  my  breth- 
ren, the  universal  extent  of  the  Redeemer's  kingdom  ; 
and  in  this  respect  how  much  does  it  differ  from  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  earth  1  The  kingdoms  of  Great  Brit- 
ain, France,  China,  Persia,  are  but  little  spots  of  the 
globe.  Our  world  has  indeed  been  oppressed  in  former 
times  with  what  mortals  call  universal  monarchies ; 
such  were  the  Babylonian,  the  Persian,  the  Grecian,  and 
especially  the  Roman.  But  in  truth,  these  were  so  far 
from  being  strictly  universal,  that  a  considerable  part  of 
the  habitable  earth  was  not  so  much  as  known  to  them. 
But  this  is  an  empire  strictly  universal.  It  extends  over 
land  and  sea ;  it  reaches  beyond  the  planetary  worlds, 
and  all  the  luminaries  of  heaven  ;  nay,  beyond  the  throne 
of  the  most  exalted  archangels,  and  dowTiward  to  the 
lowest  abyss  of  hell.  An  universal  empire  in  the  hands 
of  a  mortal  is  a  huge,  unwieldy  thing  ;  a  heap  of  confu- 
sion ;  a  burthen  to  mankind ;  and  it  has  always  rushed 
headlong  from  its  glory,  and  fallen  to  pieces  by  its  own 
weight.  But  Jesus  is  equal  to  the  immense  province  of 
an  empire  strictly  universal :  his  hand  is  able  to  hold  the 
reins  ;  and  it  is  the  blessing  of  our  world  to  be  under 
his  administration.  He  will  turn  what  appears  to  us 
scenes  of  confusion  into  perfect  order,  and  convince  all 
worlds  that  he  has  not  taken  one  wrong  step  in  the 
whole  plan  of  his  infinite  government. 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  laws  and  ordi- 
nances, and  so  has  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Look  into 
your  Bibles,  and  there  you  will  find  the  laws  of  his  king- 
dom from  its  first  foundation  immediately  unto  the  fall 
of  man.  The  laws  of  human  government  are  often  de- 
fective or  unrighteous  5  but  these  are  perfect,  holy,  just, 
and  good.  Human  laws  are  enforced  with  sanctions : 
but  the  rewards  and  punishments  can  only  affect  our 
mortal  bodies,  and  cannot  reach  beyond  the  present  life : 
but  the  sanctions  of  these  divine  laws  are  eternal,  and 
there  shall  never  be  an  end  to  their  execution.  Ever- 
lasting happiness  and  everlasting  misery,  of  the  most 
exquisite  kind  and  the  highest  degree,  are  the  rewards 
and  punishments  which  the  immortal  King  distributes 
among  his  immortal  subjects ;  and  they  become  his 
character,  and  are  adapted  to  their  nature. 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  185 

Human  laws  extend  only  to  outward  actions,  but  these 
laws  reach  the  heart,  and  the  principle  of  action  within. 
Not  a  secret  thought,  not  a  motion  of  the  soul,  is  ex- 
empted from  them.  If  the  subjects  of  earthly  kings  ob- 
serve a  decorum  in  their  outward  conduct,  and  give  no 
visible  evidence  of  disloyalty,  they  are  treated  as  good 
subjects,  though  they  should  be  enemies  in  their  hearts. 
"  But  Jesus  is  the  Lord  of  souls  ;"  he  makes  his  sub* 
jects  bow  their  hearts  as  well  as  the  knee  to  him.  He 
sweetly  commands  their  thoughts  and  affections  as  well 
as  their  external  practice,  and  makes  himself  inwardly 
beloved  as  well  as  outwardly  obeyed.  His  subjects  are 
such  on  whom  he  may  depend  :  they  are  all  ready  to 
lay  down  their  lives  for  him.  Love,  cordial,  unfeigned, 
ardent  love,  is  the  principle  of  all  their  obedience  :  and 
hence  it  is,  that  his  commandments  are  not  grievous, 
but  delightful  to  them. 

Other  kings  have  their  ministers  and  officers  of  state. 
In  like  manner  Jesus  employs  the  armies  of  heaven  as 
ministering  spirits  in  his  mediatorial  kingdom :  besides 
these  he  has  ministers,  of  an  humbler  form,  w^ho  nego- 
tiate more  immediately  in  his  name  with  mankind. 
These  are  intrusted  with  the  ministry  of  reconciliation, 
to  beseech  men,  in  his  stead,  to  be  reconciled  to  God. 
These  are  appointed  to  preach  his  w^ord,  to  administer 
his  ordinances,  and  to  manage  the  affairs  of  his  kingdom. 
This  view  gives  •  peculiar  dignity  and  importance  to  this 
office.  These  should  be  adorned,  not  like  the  ministers 
of  earthly  courts,  with  the  trappings  of  gold  and  silver, 
but  with  the  beauties  of  holiness,  the  ornament  of  a 
meek  and  quiet,  zealous  and  faithful  spirit,  and  a  life  be- 
coming the  gospel  of  Christ. 

Other  kings  have  their  soldiers  :  so  all  the  legions  of 
the  elect  angels,  the  armies  of  heaven,  are  the  soldiers 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  under  his  command.  This  he  assert- 
ed when  he  was  in  such  defenceless  circumstances,  that 
he  seemed  to  be  abandoned  by  heaven  and  earth.  "  I 
could  pray  to  my  father,"  says  he,  "  and  he  would  send 
me  more,  than  twelve  legions  of  angels^  Matt.  xxvi.  53.  I 
cannot  forbear  reading  to  you  one  of  the  most  majestic 
descriptions  of  this  all-conquering  hero  and  his  army, 
which  the  language  of  morality  is  capable  of.  Kev.  xix. 
11.  16.  "  I  saw  heaven  open,"  says  St.  John,  "  and  be- 
16* 


186  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

hold  a  white  horse,"  an  emblem  of  victory  and  triumph, 
"  and  he  that  sat  upon  him  was  called.  Faithful  and  True." 
How  different  a  character  from  that  of  mortal  conquer- 
ors !  "  And  in  righteousness  he  doth  judge  and  make 
war."  War  is  generally  a  scene  of  injustice  and  law- 
less violence  ;  and  those  plagues  of  mankind,  we  call 
heroes  and  warriors,  use  their  arms  to  gratify  their 
ow^n  avarice  or  ambition,  and  make  encroachments  upon 
others.  Jesus,  the  prince  of  peace,  makes  war  too,  but 
it  is  in  riofhteousness  ;  it  is  in  the  cause  of  riafhteousness 
he  takes  up  arms.  The  divine  description  proceeds  : 
"  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire  ;  and  on  his  head 
were  many  crowns,"  emblems  of  his  manifold  authority 
over  the  various  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the  various 
regions  of  the  universe.  "  And  he  was  clothed  with  a 
vesture  dipt  in  blood,"  in  the  blood  of  his  enemies  ; 
"  and  his  name  was  called.  The  Word  of  God ;  and  the 
armies  which  were  in  heaven  followed  him  upon  white 
horses,  clothed  in  fine  linen,  white  and  clean  :"  the 
whitest  innocence  and  purity,  and  the  beauties  of  holi- 
ness are,  as  it  were,  the  uniform,  the  regimentals  of 
these  celestial  armies.  "  And  out  of  his  mouth  goeth 
a  sharp  sword,  that  with  it  he  should  smite  the  nations  : 
and  he  shall  rule  them  wdth  a  rod  of  iron ;  and  he  tread- 
eth  the  wine-press  of  the  fierceness  and  wrath  of  Al- 
mighty God  ;  and  he  hath  on  his  vesture  and  on  his 
thigh  a  name  written,  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords." 
In  w^hat  manner  the  w^ar  is  carried  on  between  the  armies 
of  heaven  and  the  powers  of  hell,  we  know  not :  but 
that  there  is  really  something  of  this  kind  we  may  infer 
from  Rev.  xii.  7.  9.  "  There  was  war  in  heaven  ;  Michael 
and  his  angels  fought  against  the  dragon ;  and  the  dra- 
gon fought  and  his  angels,  and  prevailed  not,  neither 
was  their  place  found  any  more  in  heaven.  And  the 
great  dragon  was  cast  out,  that  old  serpent,  called  the 
Devil  and  Satan." 

Thus  you  see  all  the  hosts  of  heaven  are  volunteers 
under  the  Captain  of  our  salvation.  Nay,  he  marshals 
the  stars,  and  calls  them  by  their  names.  The  stars  in 
their  courses^  says  the  sublime  Deborah,  fought  against 
Sisera^  the  enemy  of  God's  people.  Judges  v.  20. 
Every  part  of  the  creation  serves  under  him,  and  he  can 
commission  a  gnat,  or  a  fly,  or  the  meanest  insect,  to  be 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  187 

the  executioner  of  his  enemies.  Fire  and  water,  hurri- 
canes and  earthquakes ;  earthquakes,  which  have  so 
lately  shattered  so  great  a  part  of  our  globe,  now  totter- 
ing with  age,  and  ready  to  fall  to  pieces,  and  bury  the 
inhabitants  in  its  ruins  ;  all  these  fight  under  him,  and 
conspire  to  avenge  his  quarrel  with  the  guilty  sons  of 
men.  The  subjects  of  his  grace  in  particular  are  all  so 
many  soldiers  ;  their  life  is  a  constant  warfare  ;  and 
they  are  incessantly  engaged  in  hard  conflict  with 
temptations  from  Avithout,  and  the  insurrection  of  sin 
from  within.  Sometimes,  alas  !  they  fall ;  but  their 
General  lifts  them  up  again,  and  inspires  them  with 
strength  to  renew  the  fight.  They  fight  most  success- 
fully upon  their  knees.  This  is  the  most  advantageous 
posture  for  the  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ  ;  for  prayer 
brings  down  recruits  from  heaven  in  the  hour  of  difii- 
culty.  They  are  indeed  but  poor  weaklings  and  inva- 
lids 5  and  yet  they  overcome,  through  the  blood  of  the 
Lamb ;  and  he  makes  them  conquerors,  yea,  more  than 
conquerors.  It  is  the  military  character  of  Christians 
that  gives  the  apostle  occasion  to  address  them  in  the 
military  style,  like  a  general  at  the  head  of  his  army. 
Eph.  vi.  10 — 18.  "  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the 
power  of  his  m.ight.  Put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God, 
that  ye  may  be  able  to  stand  against  the  wiles  of  the 
devil.  Stand,  therefore,  having  your  loins  girt  about 
with  truth,  and  having  on  the  breastplate  of  righteous- 
ness, and  your  feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gos- 
pel of  peace  ;  above  all,  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  where- 
with ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked.  And  take  the  helmet  of  salvation,  and  the 
sword  of  the  spirit,  which  is  the  word  of  God,  praying 
always  with  all  prayer  and  supplication."'  The  ministers 
of  the  gospel  in  particular,  and  especially  the  apostles, 
are  soldiers,  or  officers,  in  this  spiritual  army.  Hence 
St.  Paul  speaks  of  his  office,  in  the  military  style  j  / 
have^  says  he,  fought  the  good  fight.  2  Tim.  iv.  7.  We 
war^  says  he,  though  it  be  not  after  the  fiesh.  The  humble 
doctrines  of  the  cross  are  our  weapons,  and  these  are 
mighty  through  God,  to  demolish  the  strongholds  of  the 
prince  of  darhiess,  and  to  bring  every  thought  into  a  joyful 
captivity  to  the  obedience  of  faith.  2  Cor.  x.  3 — 5.  Fight 
the  good  fight ^  says  he  to  Timothy.     1  Tim.  vi.  12.    And 


188  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

again,  thou  therefore  endure  hardness  as  a  good  soldier  of 
Jesus  Christ.      2  Tim.  ii.  3.       The   great   design  of  the 
gospel-ministry  is  to  rescue  enslaved  souls  from  the  ty- 
ranny of  sin  and  Satan,  and  to  recover  them  into  a  state 
of  liberty  and  loyalty  to  Jesus  Christ;  or,  in  the  words 
of  the  apostle,  "  to  turn  them  from  darkness  to  light,  and 
from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God."      Acts   xxvi.  18. 
Mortals  indeed  are  very  unequal  for  the  conflict:  but 
their  success  more  conspicuously  shows  that  the  "  ex- 
cellency of  the  power  is  of  God  ;"  and  many  have  they 
subdued,  through  his  strength,  to  the  obedience  of  faith, 
and  made  the  willing  captives  of  the  cross  of  our  divine 
Immanuel.     Other  kingdoms  are  often  founded  in  blood, 
and  many  lives  are  lost  on  both  sides  in  acquiring  them. 
The  kingdom  of  Christ,  too,  was  founded  in  blood,  but  it 
was  the  blood  of  his  own  heart ;  life  was  lost  in  the  con- 
flict ;  but  it  was  his  o\vn ;  his  own  life  lost,  to  purchase 
life    for    his   people.       Others   have   waded    to    empire 
through  the   blood  of  mankind,  and   even  of  their  own 
subjects,  but   Christ  shed  only  his  own  blood  to  spare 
that  of  his  soldiers.      The   general  devotes  his  life  as  a 
sacrifice    to    save    his   army.     The  Fabii   and  Decii  of 
Rome,  who  devoted  themselves  for  their  country,  were 
but    faint    shadows   of  this   divine   bravery.      Oh !  the 
generous  patriotism,  the  ardent  love  of  the  Captain  of 
our  salvation  !     How  amiable  does  his  character  appear, 
in  contrast  with  that  of  the  kings  of  the  earth !     They 
often  sacrifice  the  lives  of  their  subjects,  while  they  keep 
themselves  out  of  danger,  or  perhaps  are  rioting  at  ease 
in  the  pleasures  and  luxuries  of  a  court ;  but  Jesus  en- 
gaged  in  the  conflict  with  death  and  hell  alone.     He 
He  stood  a  single  champion  in  a  field  of  blood.     He  con- 
quered for  his  people  by  falling  himself ;  he  subdued  his 
and  their  enemies  by  resigning  himself  to  their  power. 
Worthy  is  such  a  general  to  be  Commander-in-Chief  of 
the  hosts  of  God,  and  to  lead  the  armies  of  heaven  and 
earth  !       Indeed  much  blood  has  been  shed  in  carrying 
on  this  kingdom.     The  earth  has  been  soaked  with  the 
blood  of  the  saints  ;  and  millions   have    resisted  even 
unto   blood,  striving  against  sin,  and  nobly    laid  down 
their  lives  for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  a  good  conscience. 
Rome    has  been    remarkably  the  seat    of  persecution , 
botli  formerly  under  the  heathen  emperors,  and  in  later 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  189 

times,  under  a  succession  of  Popes,  still  nnoie  bloody  and 
tyrannical.  There  were  no  less  than  ten  general  perse- 
cutions under  the  heathen  Emperors,  through  the  vast 
Roman  empire,  in  a  little  more  than  two  hundred  years, 
which  followed  one  another  in  a  close  succession  ;  in 
which  innumerable  multitudes  of  Christians  lost  their 
lives  by  an  endless  variety  of  tortures.  And  since  the 
church  of  Rome  has  usurped  her  authority,  the  blood  of 
the  saints  has  hardly  ever  ceased  running  in  some 
country  or  other  ;  though,  blessed  be  God,  many  king- 
doms shook  off  the  yoke  at  the  ever-memorable  period 
of  the  Reformation,  above  two  hundred  years  ago : 
which  has  greatly  weakened  that  persecuting  power. 
This  is  that  mystical  Babylon  which  was  represented  to 
St.  John  as  "  drunken  with  the  blood  of  the  saints,  and 
with  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus."  Rev.  xvii.  6 
In  her  was  found  the  blood  of  the  prophets,  and  of  the 
saints,  and  of  all  that  were  slain  upon  the  earth.  Chap, 
xviii.  24.  And  these  scenes  of  blood  are  still  perpe- 
trated in  France,  that  plague  of  Europe,  that  has  of  late 
stretched  her  murderous  arm  across  the  wide  ocean,  to 
disturb  us  in  these  regions  of  peace.  There  the  Pro- 
testants are  still  plundered,  chained  to  the  galleys, 
broken  alive  on  the  torturing  wheel,  denied  the  poor 
favor  of  abandoning  their  country  and  their  all,  and  flj^- 
ing  naked  to  beg  their  bread  in  other  nations.  Thus  the 
harmless  subjects  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  have  ever  been 
slaughtered  from  age  to  age,  and  yet  they  are  repre- 
sented as  triumphant  conquerors.  Hear  a  poor  perse- 
cuted Paul  on  this  head :  "  In  tribulation,  in  distress,  in 
persecution,  in  nakedness,  in  peril  and  sword,  we  are 
conquerors,  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through  him 
that  loved  us."  Rom.  viii.  36,  37.  "  Thanks  be  To  God, 
who  always  causeth  us  to  triumph  in  Christ."  2  Cor.  ii. 
14.  "  Whatsoever  is  born  of  God,"  says  the  evange- 
list, "  overcometh  the  world."  1  John  v.  4.  Whence 
came  that  glorious  army  which  we  so  often  see  in  the 
Revelation  %  We  are  told  "  they  came  out  of  great  tri- 
bulation." Chap.  vii.  14.  "  And  they  overcame  by  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  by  the  word  of  their  testimony  ; 
and  they  loved  not  their  lives  unto  the  death."  Chap, 
xii.  11.  They  that  suffered  tortures  and  death  under 
the    beast,    are  said  to   have  gotten  the  victory  over  him. 


190  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOx^I    AND 

Chap.  XV.  ii.  Victory  and  triumph  sound  strange  when 
thus  ascribed  j — but  the  gospel  helps  us  to  understand 
this  mystery.  By  these  sufferings  they  obtained  the 
illustrious  crown  of  martyrdom,  and  peculiar  degrees  of 
glory  and  happiness  through  an  endless  duration. 
Their  death  was  but  a  short  transition  from  the  lowest 
and  more  remote  regions  of  their  Redeemer's  kingdom 
into  his  immediate  presence  and  glorious  court  in  hea- 
ven. A  temporal  death  is  rewarded  with  an  immortal 
life  :  and  "  their  light  afflictions  which  were  but  for  a 
moment,  wrought  out  for  them  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  Even  in 
the  agonies  of  torture,  their  souls  were  often  filled  with 
such  delightful  sensations  of  the  love  of  God,  as  swal- 
lowed up  the  sensations  of  bodily  pain  ;  and  a  bed  of 
flames  was  sweeter  to  them  than  a  bed  of  roses.  Their 
souls  were  beyond  the  reach  of  all  the  instruments  of 
torment ;  and  as  to  their  bodies,  they  shall  yet  have  a 
glorious  resurrection  to  a  blessed  immortality.  And 
now,  I  leave  you  to  judge,  whether  they  or  their  ene- 
mies got  the  victory  in  this  conflict ;  and  which  had 
most  cause  to  triumph.  Like  their  Master,  they  rose  by 
falling  ;  they  triumphed  over  their  enemies  by  submit- 
ting, like  lambs,  to  their  power.  If  the  soldiers  of  other 
generals  die  in  the  field,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  their 
commanders  to  reward  them.  But  the  soldiers  of  Jesus 
Christ,  by  dying,  are,  as  it  were,  carried  in  triumph  from 
the  field  of  blood  into  the  presence  of  their  Master,  to 
receive  his  approbation,  and  a  glorious  crown.  Death 
puts  them  into  a  capacity  of  receiving  and  enjoying 
greater  rewards  than  they  are  capable  of  in  the  present 
state.  And  thus  it  appears,  that  his  soldiers  always  win 
the  day ;  or,  as  the  apostle  expresses  it,  he  causes  them 
always  to  triumph  ;  and  not  one  of  them  has  ever  been 
or  ever  shall  be  defeated,  however  weak  and  helpless  in 
himself,  and  however  terrible  the  power  of  his  enemies 
And  O !  when  all  these  warriors  meet  at  length  from 
every  corner  of  the  earth,  and,  as  it  were,  pass  in  review 
before  their  Genera]  in  the  fields  of  heaven,  with  their 
robes  washed  in  his  blood,  with  palms  of  victory  in 
their  hands,  and  crowns  of  glory  on  their  heads,  all 
dressed  in  uniform  with  garments  of  salvation,  what  a 


GLORIES  OF  JESUS  CHRIST  19 1 

glorious  army  will  they  make  !  and  how  will  they  cause 
heaven  to  ring  with  shouts  of  joy  and  triumph  ! 

Tiie  founders  of  earthly  kingdoms  are  famous  for  their 
heroic  actions.  They  have  braved  the  duugers  of  sea 
and  land,  routed  powerful  armies,  and  subjected  nations 
to  their  will.  They  have  shed  rivers  of  blood,  laid  cities 
in  ruins,  and  countries  in  desolation.  Thcr-e  are  the  ex- 
ploits which  have  rendered  the  Alexanders,  the  Ca;sars, 
and  other  conquerors  of  this  world,  famous  through  all 
nations  and  ages.  Jesus  had  his  exploits  too  ;  but  they 
were  all  of  the  gracious  and  beneficent  kind.  His  con- 
quests Avere  so  many  deliverances,  and  his  victories  sal- 
vations. He  subdued  in  order  to  set  free ;  and  made 
captives  to  deliver  them  from  slavery.  He  conquered 
the  legions  of  hell,  that  seemed  let  loose  at  that  time, 
that  he  might  have  opportunity  of  displaying  his  power 
over  them,  and  that  mankind  might  be  sensible  how 
much  they  needed  a  deliverer  from  their  tyranny.  He 
triumphed  over  the  temptations  of  Satan  in  the  wilder- 
ness, by  a  quotation  from  his  own  word.  He  rescued 
wretched  creatures  from  his  power  by  an  almighty  com- 
mand. He  conquered  the  most  inveterate  and  stubborn 
diseases,  and  restored  health  and  vigor  with  a  word  of  his 
mouth.  He  vanquished  stubborn  souls  with  the  power 
of  his  love,  and  made  them  his  willing  people.  He  tri- 
umphed over  death,  the  king  of  terrors,  and  delivered 
Lazarus  from  the  prison  of  the  grave,  as  an  earnest  and 
first-fruits  of  a  general  resurrection.  Nay,  by  his  own 
inherent  powers  he  broke  the  bonds  of  death,  and  forced 
his  way  to  his  native  heaven.  He  destroyed  him  that 
had  the  power  of  death,  i.  e.  the  devil,  by  his  own  death, 
and  laid  the  foundation  in  his  own  blood  for  destroying 
his  usurped  kingdom,  and  forming  a  glorious  kingdom  of 
willing  subjects  redeemed  from  his  tyranny. 

The  death  of  some  great  conquerors,  particularly  of  Ju 
lius  Ca)sar,  is  said  be  have  been  prognosticated  or  attended 
with  prodigies  :  but  none  equal  to  those  which  solemniz- 
ed the  death  of  Jesus.  The  earth  trembled,  the  rocks 
were  burst  to  pieces,  the  vail  of  the  temple  was  rent,  the 
heavens  were  clothed  in  mourning,  and  the  dead  started 
into  life :  and  no  wonder,  when  the  Lord  of  nature  was 
expiring  upon  a  cross.  He  subdued  and  calmed  the 
stormy  wind,  and  the  boisterous  waves  of  the  sea.     In 


192  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KIISGD03I    AIND 

short,  he  showed  an  absolute  sovereignty  over  universai 
nature,  and  managed  the  most  unruly  elements  with  a 
single  word.  Other  conquerors  have  gone  from  country 
to  country,  carrying  desolation  along  with  them ;  Jesus 
went  about  doing  good.  His  miraculous  powers  were 
but  powers  of  miraculous  mercy  and  beneficence.  He 
could  easily  have  advanced  himself  to  a  temporal  king- 
dom, and  routed  all  the  forces  of  the  earth  ;  but  he  had 
no  ambition  of  this  kind.  He  that  raised  Lazarus  from 
the  grave  could  easily  restore  his  soldiers  to  vigor 
and  life,  after  they  had  been  wounded  or  killed.  He  that 
fed  five  thousand  with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes,  could 
have  supported  his  army  with  plenty  of  provision  in  the 
greatest  scarcity.  He  that  walked  upon  the  boisterous 
ocean,  and  enabled  Peter  to  do  the  same,  could  easily 
have  transported  his  forces  from  country  to  country, 
without  the  conveyance  of  ships.  Nay,  he  was  capable 
by  his  own  single  power  to  have  gained  universal  con- 
quest. What  could  all  the  armies  of  the  earth  have  done 
against  Him,  who  struck  an  armed  company  down  to  the 
earth  with  only  a  word  of  his  mouth  \  But  these  were 
not  the  victories  he  affected ;  Victories  of  grace,  deliver- 
ances for  the  oppressed,  salvation  for  the  lost ;  these 
were  his  heroic  actions.  He  glories  in  his  being  mighty 
to  save.  Isa.  Ixiii.  1.  When  his  warm  disciples  made 
a  motion  that  he  should  employ  his  miraculous  powers 
to  punish  the  Samaritans  who  ungratefully  refused  him 
entertainment,  he  rebuked  them,  and  answered  like  the 
Prince  of  Peace,  The  so7i  of  Man  is  not  come  to  destroy 
men's  lives,  but  to  save.  Luke  ix.  56.  He  came  to  seek 
and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.  Luke  xix.  10.  O  how 
amiable  a  character  this  !  How  much  more  lovely  the 
Savior  of  sinners,  the  Deliverer  of  souls,  than  the  en- 
slavers and  destroyers  of  mankind  ;  which  is  the  gene- 
ral character  of  the  renowned  heroes  of  our  world. 
Who  has  ever  performed  such  truly  heroic  and  brave 
actions  as  this  almighty  conqueror  !  He  has  pardoned 
the  most  aggravated  crimes,  in  a  consistency  with  the 
hciiors  of  the  divine  government:  he  has  delivered  an 
innumerable  multitude  of  immortal  souls  from  the  tyran- 
ny of  sin  and  the  powers  of  hell,  set  the  prisoners  free, 
and  brought  them  into  the  liberty  of  the  Son  of  God  j 
he  has  peopled  heaven  with  redeemed  slaves,  and  ad- 


GLOKlEd    OF    JKSU6    ClIULST.  193 

vuiiced  them  to  royal  dignity.  "All  his  subjects  are 
kings."  Kev.  i.  6.  "  To  him  that  overcometh,"  says  he, 
"will  I  grant  to  sit  with  me  in  my  throne,  even  as  I  also 
overcame,  and  am  set  down  with  my  Father  in  his  throne,'* 
Rev.  iii.  21.  They  shall  be  adorned  with  royal  robes 
and  crou'ns  of  unfading  glory.  They  are  advanced  to 
empire  over  their  lusts  and  passions,  and  all  their  ene- 
mies. Who  ever  gave  such  encouragement  to  his  sol- 
diers as  this,  If  we  suffer  with  kim,  we  know  we  skull  also 
reign  icith  him  ?  2  Tim.  ii.  12.  What  mortal  general 
could  bestow  immortality  and  perfect  happiness  upon 
his  favorites  1  But  these  boundless  blessings  Jesus  has 
to  bestow.  In  human  governments  merit  is  often  neg- 
lected, and  those  who  serve  their  country  best,  are  often 
rewarded  with  degradation.  But  none  have  ever  served 
the  King  of  kings  in  vain.  The  least  good  action,  even 
the  giving  a  cup  of  water  to  one  of  his  necessitous 
saints,  shall  not  pass  unrewarded  in  his  government. 

Other  kings  have  their  arms,  their  swords,  their  can- 
non, and  other  instruments  of  destruction  j  and  with 
these  they  acquire  and  defend  their  dominions.  Jesus, 
our  king,  has  his  arms  too  ;  but  O  !  of  how  different  a 
kind  !  The  force  of  evidence  and  conviction  in  his  doc- 
trine, attested  with  miracles,  the  energy  of  his  dying 
love,  the  gentle,  and  yet  efficacious  influence  of  his  holy 
Spirit ;  these  are  the  weapons  with  which  he  conquered 
the  world.  His  gospel  is  the  great  magazine  from 
whence  his  apostles,  the  first  founders  of  his  kingdom, 
drew  their  arms ;  and  with  these  they  subdued  the  na- 
tions to  the  obedience  of  faith.  "  The  gospel,"  says  St. 
Paul,  "is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation."  Rom.  i.  16. 
The  humble  doctrines  of  the  cross  became  almighty,  and 
bore  down  all  before  them,  and  after  a  time  subdued  the 
vast  Roman  empire  which  had  subdued  the  world.  The 
holy  Spirit  gave  edge  and  force  to  these  weapons ;  and, 
blessed  be  God,  though  they  are  quite  impotent  without 
his  assistance,  yet  when  he  concurs  they  are  still  sue- 
ce»sful.  Many  stubborn  sinners  have  been  unable  to  re 
sist  the  preaching  of  Christ  crucified:  they  have  found 
him  indeed  the  power  of  God.  And  is  it  not  astonish- 
ing, that  any  one  should  be  able  to  stand  it  out  against 
his  dying  love,  and  continue  the  enemy  of  his  cross  1 
"  I,"  says  ho,  "if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,"  i.  e.  if 
17 


194  THE    MED/ATORIAL    KINGDOM    AND 

I  be  suspended  on  the  cross,  "  will  draw  all  men  unto 
me."  John  xii.  32.  You  see  he  expected  his  cross  would 
be  an  irresistible  Aveapon.  And  O  !  blessed  Jesus,  who 
can  see  thee  expiring  there  in  agonies  of  torture  and 
love  ;  who  can  see  thy  blood  gushing  in  streams  from 
every  vein  ;  who  can  hear  thee  there,  and  not  melt  into 
submission  at  thy  feet !  Is  there  one  heart  in  this  as 
sembly  proof  against  the  energy  of  this  bleeding,  ago- 
nizing, dying  love  1  Methinks  such  a  sight  must  kindle 
a  correspondent  aflection  in  your  hearts  towards  him 
and  it  is  an  exploit  of  wickedness,  it  is  the  last  desperate 
effort  of  an  impenetrable  heart,  to  be  able  to  resist. 

Other  conquerors  march  at  the  head  of  their  troops, 
with  all  the  ensigns  of  power  and  grandeur,  and  theii 
forces  numerous,  inured  to  war,  and  well  armed ;  and 
from  such  appearances  and  preparations,  who  is  there 
but  what  expects  victory  1  But  see  the  despised  Naza- 
rene,  without  riches,  without  arms,  without  forces,  con- 
flicting with  the  united  powers  of  earth  and  hell ;  or  see 
a  company  of  poor  fishermen  and  a  tent-maker,  with  no 
other  powers  but  those  of  doing  good,  with  no  other 
arms  but  those  of  reason,  and  the  strange,  unpopular 
doctrines  of  a  crucified  Christ !  see  the  professed  fol- 
lowers of  a  Master  that  was  hung  like  a  malefactor  and 
a  slave,  see  these  men  marching  out  to  encounter  the 
powers  of  darkness,  the  whole  strength  of  the  Roman 
empire,  the  lusts,  prejudices,  and  interests  of  all  nations, 
and  traveling  from  country  to  country,  without  guards, 
without  friends,  exposed  to  insult  and  contempt,  to  the 
rage  of  persecution,  to  all  manner  of  torture  and  tor- 
mented deaths  which  earth  or  hell  could  invent :  see  this 
little  army  marching  into  the  wide  world,  in  these  cir- 
cumstances, and  can  you  expect  they  will  have  any  suc- 
cess 1  Does  this  appear  a  promising  expedition  1  No  ; 
human  reason  would  forebode  they  will  soon  be  cut  in 
pieces,  and  the  Christian  cause  buried  with  them.  But 
tliese  unpromising  champions,  with  the  aid  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  conquered  the  world,  and  spread  the  religion  of 
the  crucified  Jesus  among  all  nations.  It  is  true  they 
lost  their  lives  in  the  cause,  like  brave  soldiers  ;  but  the 
cause  did  not  die  with  them.  Their  blood  proved  the 
seed  of  the  church.  Their  cause  is  immortal  and  invin- 
cible.    Let  devils  in  hell,  let  Heathens,  Jews,  and  Ma- 


GLORIES    OF    JESUS    CHRIST.  I9ft 

hometans,  let  Atheists,  Freethinkers,  Papists,  and  perse- 
cutors of  every  character  do  their  worst ;  still  this  cause 
will  live  in  spite  of  them.  All  the  enemies  of  Christ 
will  he  obliged  to  confess  at  last,  with  Julian  the  apos- 
tate Roman  emperor,  who  exerted  all  his  art  to  abolish 
Christianity ;  but  when  mortally  wounded  in  battle,  out- 
rageously sprinkled  his  blood  towards  heaven,  and  cried 
out,  Vicisti^  0  GalilcEe  !  "  Thou  hast  conquered,  O  Gali- 
lean !"  Yes,  my  brethren,  Jesus,  the  Prophet  of  Galilee, 
will  push  his  conquest  from  country  to  country,  until  all 
nations  submit  to  him.  And,  blessed  be  his  name,  his 
victorious  arm  has  reached  to  us  in  these  ends  of  the 
earth  :  here  he  has  subdued  some  obstinate  rebels,  and 
made  their  reluctant  souls  willingly  bow  in  affectionate 
homage  to  him.  And  may  I  not  produce  some  of  you 
as  the  trophies  of  his  victory  1  Has  he  not  rooted  out 
the  enmity  of  your  carnal  minds,  and  sweetly  constrained 
you  to  the  most  affectionate  obedience  1  Thus,  blessed 
Jesus  !  thus  go  on  conquering  and  to  conquer.  Gird  thy 
sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  mighty !  and  in  thy  glory 
and  majesty  ride  prosperously  through  our  land,  and 
make  this  country  a  dutiful  province  of  the  dominion  of 
thy  grace.  My  brethren,  should  we  all  become  his  will- 
ing subjects,  he  would  no  longer  suffer  the  perfidious 
slaves  of  France, 'and  their  savage  allies,  to  chastise  and 
punish  us  for  our  rebellion  against  him  ;  hut  peace  should 
again  run  down  like  a  river,  and  righteousness  like  a  mighty 
stream. 

The  kingdoms  of  the  world  have  their  rise,  their  pro- 
gress, perfection,  declension,  and  ruin.  And  in  these 
things,  the  kingdom  of  Christ  bears  some  resemblance  to 
them,  excepting  that  it  shall  never  have  an  end. 

Its  rise  was  small  at  first,  and  it  has  passed  through 
many  revolutions  in  various  ages.  It  was  first  founded 
in  the  family  of  Adam,  but  in  about  1600  years,  the 
space  between  the  creation  and  the  flood,  it  was  almost 
demolished  by  the  wickedness  of  the  world ;  and  at 
length  confined  to  the  little  family  of  Noah.  After  the 
flood,  the  world  soon  fell  into  idolatry,  but,  that  this 
kingdom  of  Christ  might  not  be  destroyed  quite,  it  was 
erected  in  the  family  of  Abraham  ;  and  among  the  Jews 
it  continued  until  the  coming  of  Christ  in  the  flesh.  This 
was  indeed  but  the  infancy  of  his  kingdom,  and  indeed 


196  THIi:    MEDIATORIAL    KIKGDOM    AND 

is  seldom  called  by  that  name.  It  is  the  gospel  consti- 
tution that  is  represented  as  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  in  a 
special  sense.  Thisv/as  but  very  small  and  unpromising 
at  first.  When  its  founder  was  dying  upon  Calvary,  and 
all  his  followers  had  forsaken  him  and  fled,  who  would 
have  thought  it  would  ever  have  come  to  any  thing,  ever 
have  recovered  \  But  it  revived  with  him  ;  and  when  he 
furnished  his  apostles  with  gifts  and  graces  for  their  mis- 
sion, and  sent  them  forth  to  increase  his  kingdom,  it 
made  its  progress  through  the  world  with  amazing  ra- 
pidity, notwithstanding  it  met  with  very  early  and  pow- 
erful opposition.  The  Jews  set  themselves  against  it, 
and  raised  persecutions  against  its  ministers,  wherever 
they  went.  And  presently  the  tyrant  Nero  employed  all 
the  power  of  the  Roman  empire  to  crush  them.  Peter, 
Paul,  and  thousands  of  the  Christians  fell  a  prey  to  his 
rage,  like  sheep  for  the  slaughter.  This  persecution 
was  continued  under  his  successors  with  but  little  inter- 
ruption, for  about  two  hundred  years. 

But,  under  all  these  pressures,  the  church  bore  np  her 
head  ;  yea,  the  more  she  was  trodden,  the  more  she 
spread  and  flourished ;  and  at  length  she  was  delivered 
from  oppression  by  Constantine  the  Great,  about  the  year 
420.  But  now  she  had  a  more  dangerous  enemy  to  en- 
counter, I  mean  prosperity  ;  and  this  did  her  much  more 
injury  than  all  the  persecutions  of  her  enemies.  Now 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  began  to  be  corrupted  with  here- 
sies ;  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  formerly  the  most  dan- 
gerous post  in  the  world,  now  became  a  place  of  honor 
and  profit,  and  men  began  to  thrust  themselves  into 
it  from  principles  of  avarice  and  ambition  j  supersti- 
tion and  corruption  of  morals  increased  5  and  at  length 
the  Bishop  of  Rome  set  up  for  universal  head  of  the 
church  in  the  year  606  ;  and  gradually  the  whole  mon- 
strous system  of  popery  was  formed  and  established,  and 
continued  in  force  for  near  a  thousand  years.  The  king- 
dom of  Christ  was  now  at  a  low  ebb  ;  and  tyranny  and 
superstition  reigned  under  that  name  over  the  greatest 
part  of  the  Christian  world.  Nevertheless,  our  Lord 
still  had  his  witnesses.  The  Waldenses  and  Albigenses, 
John  Huss,  and  Jerome  of  Prague,  and  Wickliffe  in  Eng- 
land, opposed  the  torrent  of  corruption  ;  until  at  length, 
Luther,  Calvin,  Zuinglius,  and  several  others,  were  made 


GLORIES    or    JESUS   CHRIST.  197 

the  honored  instruments  of  introducing  the  Eeformation 
from  popery  ;  when  sundry  whole  kingdoms,  which  had 
given  their  power  to  the  bcList,  and  particularly  our  mo- 
ther-country, shook  off  the  papal  authority,  and  admitted 
the  pure  light  of  the  gospel.     Since  that  time  the  king- 
dom of  Christ  has  struggled  hard,  and  it  has  lost  ground 
in  several  countries  ;  particularly  in  France,  Poland,  Bo- 
hemia,  &c.,  where    there    once  were  many  Protestant 
churches  ;  but  they  are  now  in  ruins.     And,  alas  !  those 
countries  that  still  retain  the  reformed  religion,  have  too 
generally  reduced  it  into  a  mere  formality  ;  and  it  has 
but  little  influence  upon  the  hearts  and  lives  even  of  its 
professors.     Thus  we  find  the  case  remarkable  among 
us.     This  gracious  kingdom  miakes  but  little  way  in  Vir- 
ginia.    The  calamities  of  war  and  famine  cannot,  alas ! 
draw  subjects  to  it;  but  we  seem  generally  determined 
to  perish  in  our  rebellion  rather  than  submit.     Thus  it 
has  been  in  this  country  from  its  first  settlement ;  and 
how  long  it  will  continue  in  this  situation  is  unknown  to 
mortals :  however,  this  we  may  know,  it  will  not  be  so 
always.     We  have  the  strongest  assurances  that  Jesus 
\Yil\  yet  take  to  him  his  strong  power,  and  reign  in  a 
more  extensive  and  illustrious  manner  than  he  has  ever 
yet  done  ;  and  that  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  shall  yet 
become    the    kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and   of  his  Christ. 
There  are  various  parts  of  the  heathen  world  where  the 
gospel  has  never  yet  been ;  and  the  Jews  have  never  yet 
been  converted  as  a  nation  ;  but  both  the  calling  of  the 
Jews  and  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles,  you  will  find  plainly 
foretold  in  the  11th  chapter  of  the  Romans  ;  and  it  is,  no 
doubt,  to  render  the  accomplishment  of  this  event  the 
more  conspicuous,  that  the  Jews,  who  are  dispersed  all 
over  the  world,  have,  by  a  strange,  unprecedented,  and 
singular  providence,  been  kept  a  distinct  people  to  this 
day,  for  1,700  years  5  though  all  other  nations  have  been 
so  mixed  and  blended  together,  who  were  not  half  so 
much  dispersed  into  diflerent  countries,  that  their  dis- 
tinct original  cannot  be  traced.     Posterity  shall  see  this 
glorious  event  in  some  happy  future  period.     How  far  it 
IS  from  us  I  will  not  determine :    though,   upon    some 
grounds,  I  apprehend  it  is  not  very  remote.     I  shall  live 
and  die  in  the  unshaken  belief  that  our  guilty  world  shall 
yet  see  glorious  days.     Yes,  my  brethren,  this  desp'sed 
17* 


j98  THE    MEDIATORIAL    KINGDOM,    &C. 

gospel,  that  has  so  little  effect  in  our  age  and  countrj% 
shall  yet  shine  like  lightning,  or  like  the  sun,  through  all 
the  dark  regions  of  the  earth.  It  shall  triumph  over  Hea- 
thenism, Mahometanism,  Judaism,  Popery,  and  all  those 
dangerous  errors  that  have  infected  the  Christian  church. 
This  gospel,  poor  negroes,  shall  yet  reach  your  country- 
men, whom  you  left  behind  you  in  Africa,  in  darkness 
and  the  shadow  of  death,  and  bless  your  eyes  with  the 
light  of  salvation  :  and  the  Indian  savages,  that  are  now 
ravaging  our  country,  shall  yet  be  transformed  into  lambs 
and  doves  by  the  gospel  of  peace.  The  scheme  of  Pro- 
vidence is  not  yet  completed,  and  much  remains  to  be 
accomplished  of  what  God  has  spoken  by  his  prophets, 
to  ripen  the  world  for  the  universal  judgment  ;  but  when 
all  these  things  are  finished,  then  proclamation  shall  be 
made  throughout  all  nature,  "That  time  shall  be  no 
more  : "  then  the  Supreme  Judge,  the  same  Jesus  that 
ascended  the  cross,  will  ascend  the  throne,  and  review 
the  affairs  of  time  :  then  will  he  put  an  end  to  the  pre- 
sent course  of  nature,  and  the  present  form  of  adminis- 
tration. Then  shall  heaven  and  hell  be  filled  with  their 
respective  inhabitants  :  then  will  time  close,  and  eternity 
riJA  on  in  one  uniform  tenor,  without  end.  But  the  king- 
dom of  Christ,  though  altered  in  its  situation  and  form 
of  government,  will  not  then  come  to  a  conclusion.  His 
kingdom  is  strictly  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  and  at  the 
end  of  this  world,  his  subjects  will  only  be  removed  from 
these  lower  regions  into  a  more  glorious  country,  Avhere 
they  and  their  King  shall  live  together  for  ever  in  the 
most  endearing  intimacy ;  where  the  noise  and  commo- 
tions of  this  restless  world,  the  revolutions  and  perturb- 
ations of  kingdoms,  the  terrors  of  war  and  persecution, 
shall  no  more  reach  them  ;  but  all  will  be  perfect  peace, 
love,  and  happiness,  through  immeasurable  duration. 
This  is  the  last  and  most  illustrious  state  of  the  kingdom 
of  Christ,  now  so  small  and  weak  in  appearance  :  this  is 
the  final  grand  result  of  his  administration :  and  it  will 
appear  to  admiring  worlds  wisely  planned,  gloriously 
executed,  and  perfectly  finished. 

What  conqueror  ever  erected  such  a  kingdom !  What 
subjects  so  completely,  so  lastingly  happy,  as  those  of 
the  blessed  Jesus! 


THINGS  UNSEEN  TO  BE  PREFERRED,  &C.       199 

SERMON  XI. 

THINGS   UNSEEN    TO   BE    PREFERRED    TO   THINGS    SEEN. 

2  Cor.  iv.  18. — While  we  look  not  at  the  things  which  are 
see?i,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temj)oral  :  but  the  things  which  ai  e 
not  seen  are  eternal. 

Among  all  the  causes  of  the  stupid  unconcernedness 
of  sinners  about  religion,  and  the  feeble  endeavors  of 
saints  to  improve  in  it,  there  is  none  more  common  or 
more  effectual,  than  their  not  forming  a  due  estimate  of 
the  things  of  time,  in  comparison  of  those  of  eternity. 
Our  present  affairs  engross  all  our  thoughts,  and  exhaust 
all  our  activity,  though  they  are  but  transitory  trifles ; 
while  the  awful  realities  of  the  future  world  are  hid  from 
our  eyes  by  the  veil  of  flesh  and  the  clouds  of  ignorance. 
Did  these  break  in  upon  our  minds  in  all  their  almighty 
evidence  and  tremendous  importance,  they  would  anni- 
hilate the  most  majestic  vanities  of  the  present  state,  ob- 
scure the  glare  of  earthly  glory,  render  all  its  pleasures 
insipid,  and  give  us  a  noble  sensibility  under  all  its  sor- 
rows. A  realizing  view  of  these  would  shock  the  liber- 
tine in  his  thoughtless  career,  tear  off  the  hypocrite's 
mask,  and  inflame  the  devotion  of  the  languishing  saints. 
The  concern  of  mankind  would  then  be  how  they  might 
make  a  safe  exit  out  of  this  world,  and  not  how  they 
may  live  happy  in  it.  Present  pleasure  and  pain  would 
be  swallowed  up  in  the  prospect  of  everlasting  happiness 
or  misery  hereafter.  Eternity,  awful  eternity,  would 
then  be  our  serious  contemplation.  The  pleasures  of 
sin  would  strike  us  with  horror,  if  they  issue  in  eternal 
pain,  and  our  present  afflictions,  however  tedious  and 
severe,  would  appear  but  light  and  momentary,  if  they 
work  out  for  us  afar  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory. 

These  were  the  views  the  apostle  had  of  things,  and 
these  their  effects  upon  him.  He  informs  us  in  this 
chapter  of  his  unwearied  zeal  to  propagate  the  gospel 
amidst  all  the  hardships  and  dangers  that  attend  the 
painful  discharge  of  his  ministry.    Though  he  bore  about 


200  THINGS    UNSEEN    TO    BE 

in  his  body  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  though  he  wan 
always  delivered  unto  death  for  Jesus'  sake,  yet  he  faint 
ed  not ;  and  this  was  the  prospect  that  animated  him, 
that  his  "  light  affliction,  which  was  but  for  a  moment, 
would  work  out  for  him  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eter 
nal  weight  of  glory."  When  we  view  his  sufferings 
absolutely,  without  any  reference  to  eternity,  they  wcro 
very  heavy  and  of  many  years'  continuance  ;  and  when 
he  represents  them  in  this  view,  how  moving  is  the  rela- 
tion !  see  2  Cor.  xi.  23-29.  But  when  he  views  them  in 
the  light  of  eternity,  and  compared  Vv'ith  their  glorious 
issues,  they  sink  into  nothing;  then  scourging,  stoning, 
imprisonment,  and  all  the  various  deaths  to  which  he 
w^as  daily  exposed,  arc  but  light,  trifling  afflictions,  hard- 
ly worth  naming ;  then  a  series  of  uninterrupted  suffer- 
ings for  many  years  are  but  afflictions  that  endure  for  a 
moment.  And  when  he  views  a  glorious  futurity,  hu- 
man language  cannot  express  the  ideas  he  has  of  the 
happiness  reserved  for  him  ;  it  is  "  a  far  more  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory  ;"  a  noble  sentiment ! 
and  expressed  in  the  sublimest  manner  the  language  of 
mortals  can  admit  of. 

It  is  glory,  in  opposition  to  affliction ;  a  weight  of  glo- 
ry, in  opposition  to  light  affliction  ;  a  massy,  oppressive 
blessedness,  which  it  requires  all  the  powers  of  the  soul, 
in  their  full  exertion,  to  support :  and  in  opposition  to 
affliction  for  a  moment,  it  is  eternal  glory  :  to  finish  all, 
it  is  a/ar  more  exceeding  glory.*  What  greater  idea  can 
be  grasped  by  the  human  mind,  or  expressed  in  the  fee- 
ble language  of  mortality !  Nothing  but  feeling  that 
weight  of  glory  could  enlarge  his  conception :  and  no- 
thing but  the  dialect  of  heaven  could  better  express  it. 
No  wonder  that,  with  this  view  of  things,  "  he  shoukl 
reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  the  present  life  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  shall  be  re- 
vealed." Rom.  viii.  18. 

The  apostle  observes,  that  he  formed  this  estimate  of 
things,  while  he  looked  not  at  the  "  things  which  are 
seen,  but  at  those  which  are  not  seen."  By  the  things 
that  are   seen,  are   meant  the  present  life,  and  all  the 

•  The  original  far  surpasses  the  best  translation.  The  adjective  -dhso- 
lute  [ro  iAa^pai/  rrj?  0>lt//fwj]  is  very  significant ;  and  ;ja9'  vi:e^o\rii'  nj 
viT£po)^t]v  is  mimiiable  in  any  la  g  a,^'. 


PREFERRELi   TO   THINGS    SEEN.  201 

things  of  time  ;  all  the  pleasures  and  pains,  all  the  labors, 
pursuits,  and  aniusenienls  oi"  the  present  state.  By  the 
things  that  are  not  seen,  are  intended  all  the  invisible 
realities  of  the  eternal  world  :  all  tlic  beings,  the  enjoy- 
ments and  suflerings  that  lie  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
sight ;  as  the  great  Father  of  spirits,  the  joys  of  para- 
disc,  and  the  punishment  of  hell.  We  look  on  these  in- 
visible things,  and  not  on  those  that  are  seen.  This 
seems  like  a  contradiction  ;  but  it  is  easily  solved  by 
understanding  this  act,  described  by  looking,  to  be  the 
act  not  of  the  bodily  eye,  but  of  faith  and  enlightened 
reason.  Faith  is  defined  by  this  apostle  to  be  "  the  sub- 
stance of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things 
not  seen."  Heb.  xi.  1.  And  it  is  the  apostle's  chief  de- 
sign in  that  chapter,  to  give  instances  of  the  surprising 
eflicacy  of  such  a  realizing  belief  of  eternal  invisible 
things ;  see  particularly  ver.  10,  1.3,  14,  16,  25,  26,  27. 
Hence  to  look  not  at  visible,  but  at  invisible  things,  sig- 
nifies that  the  apostle  made  the  latter  the  chief  obje^-'ts 
of  his  contemplations,  that  he  was  governed  in  the  whole 
of  his  conduct  by  the  impression  of  eternal  things,  and 
not  by  the  present  ;  that  he  formed  his  maxims  and 
schemes  from  a  comprehensive  survey  of  futurities,  and 
not  from  a  partial  view  of  things  present ;  and,  in  short, 
that  he  had  acted  as  an  expectant  of  eternity,  and  not  as 
an  everlasting  inhabitant  of  this  wretched  world.  This 
he  elsewhere  expresses  in  equivalent  terms,  "  We  wallc 
by  faith  and  not  by  sight."     2  Cor.  v.  7. 

Further,  he  assigns  a  reason  why  he  had  a  greater  re- 
gard to  invisible  things  than  visible  in  the  regulating  of 
his  conduct ;  "  for  the  things  which  are  seen,  are  tem- 
poral, but  the  things  which  are  not  seen,"  says  he, 
"  are  eternal."  An  important  reason  indeed !  Eternity 
annexed  to  a  trifle  would  advance  it  into  infinite  impor- 
tance, but  when  it  is  the  attribute  of  the  most  perfect 
happiness,  or  of  the  most  exquisite  misery,  then  it  tran- 
scends all  comparison  :  then  all  temporal  happiness  and 
misery,  however  great  and  long-continued,  shrink  into 
nothing,  are  droAvned  and  lost,  like  the  small  drop  of  a 
bucket  in  the  boundless  ocean. 

My  present  design,  and  the  contents  of  the  text,  pre- 
scribe to  me  the  following  method  : 

I.  I  shall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  visible  and 


202  THINGS    UT^SEExN    TO    BE 

invisible  things,  that  you  may  see  the  trifling  nature  of 
the  one,  and  the  importance  of  the  other.  This  I  choose 
to  do  under  one  head,  because  by  placing  these  two 
classes  of  things  in  an  immediate  opposition,  we  may 
the  more  easily  compare  them,  and  see  their  infinite  dis- 
parity. And, 

II.  I  shall  show  you  the  great  and  happy  influence  a 
suitable  impression  of  the  superior  importance  of  invisi- 
ble to  visible  things  would  have  upon  us. 

I.  I  shall  give  you  a  comparative  view  of  visible  and 
invisible  things ;  and  Ave  may  compare  visible  and  invi 
sible  things,  as  to  their  intrinsic  value,  and  as  to  theii 
duration. 

1.  As  to  their  intrinsic  value ;  and  in  this  respect  the 
disparity  is  inconceivable. 

This  I  shall  illustrate  in  the  two  comprehensive  in- 
stances of  pleasure  and  pain.  To  shun  the  one,  and  ob- 
tain the  other,  is  the  natural  effort  of  the  human  mind. 
This  is  its  aim  in  all  its  endeavors  and  pursuits.  The 
innate  desire  of  happiness  and  aversion  to  misery  are 
the  two  great  springs  of  all  human  activity  :  and,  were 
these  springs  relaxed  or  broken,  all  business  would  cease, 
all  activity  would  stagnate,  and  universal  torpor  would 
seize  the  world.  And  these  principles  are  co-existent 
with  the  soul  itself,  and  will  continue  in  full  vigor  in  a 
future  state.  Nay,  as  the  soul  will  then  be  matured,  and 
all  its  powers  arrived  to  their  complete  perfection,  this 
eagerness  after  happiness,  and  aversion  to  misery,  will 
be  also  more  quick  and  vigorous.  The  soul  in  its  pre- 
sent state  of  infancy,  like  a  young  child,  or  a  man  en- 
feebled and  stupified  by  sickness,  is  incapable  of  very 
deep  sensations  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  and  hence  an  ex- 
cess of  joy,  as  well  as  sorrow,  has  sometimes  dissolved 
its  feeble  union  with  the  body.  On  this  account  we  are 
incapable  of  such  degrees  of  happiness  or  misery  from 
the  things  of  this  world  as  beings  of  more  lively  sensa- 
tions might  receive  from  them  ;  and  much  more  are  we 
incapable  of  the  happiness  or  misery  of  the  future  world, 
until  we  have  put  on  immortality.  We  cannot  see  God 
and  live.  Should  the  glory  of  heaven  blaze  upon  U5  in 
all  its  insuperable  splendor,  it  would  overwhelm  our 
feeble  nature  ;  we  could  not  support  such  a  weight  of 
glory.     And  one  twinge   of  the  agonies  of  hell  would 


PREFERRED    TO    THINGS    SEEN.  203 

dislodge  the  soul  from  its  earthly  mansion  :  one  pang 
would  convulse  and  stupify  it,  were  not  its  powers 
strengthened  by  the  separation  from  the  body.  But  in 
the  future  world  all  the  powers  of  the  soul  Avill  be  ma 
ture  and  strong,  and  the  body  will  be  clothed  with  im- 
mortality ;  the  union  between  them  after  the  resurrec- 
tion will  be  hiseparable,  and  able  to  support  the  most  op- 
pressive weight  of  glory,  or  the  most  intolerable  load  of 
torment.  Hence  it  follows  that  pleasure  and  pain  include 
all  that  we  can  desire  or  fear  in  the  present  or  future 
world  ;  and  therefore  a  comparative  view^  of  present  and 
future  pleasure  and  pain  is  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  form 
a  due  estimate  of  visible  and  invisible  things.  By  pre- 
sent pleasure  I  mean  all  the  happiness  we  can  receive 
from  present  things,  as  from  riches,  honors,  sensual  gra- 
tifications, learning,  and  intellectual  improvements,  and 
all  the  amusements  and  exercises  of  this  life.  And  by 
future  pleasure,  or  the  pleasure  which  results  from  invi- 
sible things,  I  mean  all  the  fruitions  and  enjoyments  in 
which  heavenly  happiness  consists.  By  present  pain,  I 
intend  all  the  uneasiness  which  we  can  receive  from  the 
things  of  the  present  life  ;  as  poverty,  losses,  disappoint- 
ments, bereavements,  sickness,  and  bodily  pains.  And  by 
future  pain,  I  mean  all  the  punishments  of  hell  5  as  banish- 
ment from  God,  and  a  privation  of  all  created  blessings, 
the  agonizing  reflections  of  a  guilty  conscience,  the  hor- 
rid company  and  exprobations  of  infernal  ghosts,  and  the 
torture  of  infernal  flames. 

Now  let  us  put  these  in  the  balance,  and  the  one  will  sink 
into  nothing,  and  the  other  rise  into  infinite  importance. 

Temporal  things  are  of  a  contracted  nature,  and  not 
adequate  to  the  capacities  of  the  human  soul ;  but  eter- 
nal things  are  great,  and  capable  of  communicating  all 
the  happiness  and  misery  which  it  can  receive.  The 
soul  in  its  present  state  is  not  capable  of  such  degrees 
of  happiness  and  misery  as  it  will  be  in  the  future,  when 
it  dwells  among  invisible  realities.  All  that  pleasure  and 
pain  which  w^e  receive  from  things  that  are  seen,  are  in- 
termmgled  with  some  ingredients  of  a  contrary  nature  ; 
but  those  proceeding  from  things  that  are  not  seen,  are 
pure  and  unmingled. 

1.  Visible  things  are  not  equal  to  the  capacities  of  the 
human  soul.     This  little  spark  of  being,  the  soul,  which 


904<  THINGS    UNSEEN    TO    BE 

lies  obscured  in  this  prison  of  flesh,  gives  frequent  dis- 
coveries of  surprising  powers  :  its  desires,  in  particular, 
have  a  kind  of  infinity.  But  all  temporary  objects  are 
mean  and  contracted ;  they  cannot  alford  it  a  happiness 
equal  to  its  capacity,  nor  render  it  as  miserable  as  its 
capacity  of  suffering  will  bear.  Hence,  in  the  greatest 
affluence  of  temporal  enjoyments,  in  the  midst  of  honor?, 
pleasures,  riches,  friends,  &c.,  it  still  feels  a  painful  void 
within,  and  finds  an  unknown  something  wanting  to  com 
plete  its  happiness.  Kings  have  been  unhappy  upon 
their  thrones,  and  all  their  grandeur  has  been  but  majes- 
tic misery.  So  Solomon  found  it,  who  had  opportunity 
and  curiosity  to  make  the  experiment ;  •  and  this  is  his 
verdict  upon  all  earthly  enjoyments,  after  the  most  im- 
partial trial :  "  Vanity  of  vanities,"  saith  the  Preacher, 
"  vanity  of  vanities  ;  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  soul  may  possess  some  degree 
of  happiness,  under  all  the  miseries  it  is  capable  of  suf- 
fering from  external  and  temporal  things.  Guilt  indeed 
denies  it  this  support  5  but  if  there  be  no  intestine  broils, 
no  anguish  resulting  from  its  own  reflections,  not  all  the 
visible  things  can  render  it  perfectly  miserable ;  its  ca- 
pacity of  suffering  is  not  put  to  its  utmost  stretch.  This 
has  been  attested  by  the  experience  of  multitudes  who 
have  suffered  for  righteousness'  sake.  But  O,  when  we 
take  a  survey  of  invisible  things,  we  find  them  all  great 
and  majestic,  not  only  equal  but  infinitely  superior  to  the 
most  enlarged  powers  of  the  human  and  even  of  the  an- 
gelic nature.  In  the  eternal  world  the  great  Invisible 
dwells,  and  there  he  acts  with  his  own  immediate  hand. 
It  is  he  that  immediately  communicates  happiness 
through  the  heavenly  regions ;  and  it  is  his  immediate 
breath  that,  like  a  stream  of  brimstone,  kindles  the  flames 
of  hell ;  whereas,  in  the  present  world,  he  rarely  com- 
municates happiness,  and  inflicts  punishment,  but  by  the 
instrumentality  of  creatures ;  and  it  is  impossible  the 
extremes  of  either  should  be  communicated  through  this 
channel.  This  the  infinite  God  alone  can  do,  and,  though 
in  the  future  world  he  will  use  his  creatures  to  heighten 
the  happiness  or  misery  of  each  other,  yet  he  will  havp 
a  more  immediate  agency  in  them  himself,  He  will  com- 
municate happiness  immediately  from  himself,  the  infi- 
nite fountain  of  it,  into  the  vessels  of  mercy  :  and  he  will 


PREFERRED    TO    THINGS    SEEN.  205 

immediately  show  his  wrath,  and  make  his  power  known 
upon  the  vessels  of  wrath.  I  may  add,  tliat  those  crea- 
tures, angels  and  devils,  which  will  be  the  instruments 
of  happiness  or  misery  to  the  human  soul  in  the  invisible 
world,  are  incomparably  more  powerful  than  any  in  thi? 
and  consequently  capable  of  contributing  more  to  our 
pleasure  or  pain.  And  let  me  also  observe,  that  all  the 
objects  about  which  our  faculties  will  be  employed  then, 
will  be  great  and  majestic  ;  whereas,  at  present,  we  gro- 
vel among  little  sordid  things.  The  objects  of  our  con- 
templation will  then  be  either  the  unveiled  glories  of  the 
divine  nature,  and  the  naked  wonders  of  creation,  provi- 
dence, and  redemption  ;  or  the  terrors  of  divine  justice, 
the  dreadful  nature  and  aggravations  of  our  sin,  the  hor- 
rors of  everlasting  punishment,  &c.  And  since  this  is 
the  case,  how  little  should  we  regard  the  things  that  are 
seen,  in  comparison  of  them  that  are  not  seen  1  But 
though  visible  things  were  adequate  to  our  present  ca- 
pacities, yet  they  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the  things 
that  are  not  seen ;  because, 

2.  The  soul  is  at  present  in  a  state  of  infancy,  and  in- 
capable of  such  degrees  of  pleasure  or  pain  as  it  can 
bear  in  the  future  world.  The  enjoyments  of  this  life 
are  like  the  playthings  of  children  ;  and  none  but  child- 
ish souls  would  trifle  with  them,  or  fret  and  vex  them- 
selves or  one  another  about  them  ;  but  the  invisible  real- 
ities before  us  are  manly  and  great,  and  such  as  an  adult 
soul  ought  to  concern  itself  with.  The  soul  in  another 
world  can  no  more  be  happj^  or  miserable  from  such 
toys,  than  men  can  be  happy  or  wretched  in  the  posses- 
sion or  loss  of  the  baubles  of  children ;  it  will  then  de- 
mand great  things  to  give  it  pleasure  or  pain.  The  apos- 
tle illustrates  this  matter  in  this  manner  :  1  Cor.  xiii.  9, 
10,  11.  How  foolish  is  it  then  to  be  chiefly  governed 
by  these  puerilities,  while  we  neglect  the  manly  concern 
of  eternity,  that  can  make  our  souls  perfectly  happy  or 
miserable,  when  their  powers  are  come  to  perfection ! 

3.  And  lastly.  All  the  happiness  and  misery  of  the 
present  state,  resulting  from  things  that  are  seen,  are  in- 
termingled with  contrary  ingredients.  We  are  never  so 
happy  in  this  world  as  to  have  no  uneasiness  ;  in  the 
greatest  afliuence  we  languish  for  want  of  some  absent 
gcod,    or  grieve   under   sojne   incumbent  evil.     On  tho 

18 


206  THINGS   UNSEEN    TO   BE 

Other  hand,  we  are  never  so  miserable  as  to  have  no  in- 
gredient of  happiness.  When  we  labor  under  a  thousand 
calamities,  w^e  may  still  see  ourselves  surrounded  with, 
perhaps,  an  equal  number  of  blessings.  And  where  is 
there  a  wretch  so  miserable  as  to  endure  simple  un- 
mingled  misery,  without  one  comfortable  ingredient  1 
But  in  the  invisible  world  there  is  an  eternal  separation 
made  between  good  and  evil,  pleasure  and  pain ;  and 
they  shall  never  mingle  more.  In  heaven,  the  rivers  of 
pleasure  flow  untroubled  with  a  drop  of  sorrow  ;  in  hell, 
there  is  not  a  drop  of  water  to  mitigate  the  fury  of  the 
flame.  And  who  then  would  not  prefer  the  things  that 
are  not  seen  to  those  that  are  seen  %  Especially  if  we 
consider, 

4.  The  infinite  disparity  between  them  as  to  duration. 
This  is  the  difference  particularly  intended  in  the  text ; 
the  thi?igs  that  are  see?i  are  temporal ;  but  the  things  that 
are  not  see??  are  etermal. 

The  transitoriness  of  visible  things  implies,  both  that 
the  things  themselves  are  perishable,  and  they  may  soon 
leave  us ;  and  that  our  residence  among  them  is  tempo- 
rary, and  we  must  soon  leave  them. 

And  the  eternity  of  invisible  things  implies  quite  the 
contrary,  that  the  things  themselves  are  of  endless  dura- 
tion ;  and  that  we  shall  always  exist  to  receive  happi- 
ness or  misery  from  them. 

Before  we  illustrate  these  instances  of  disparity,  let  us 
take  a  view  of  Time  and  Eternity  in  themselves,  and  ViZ 
compared  to  one  another. 

Time  is  the  duration  of  creatures  in  the  present  state 
It  commenced  at  the  creation,  and  near  6000  years  of  it 
are  since  elapsed  ;  and  how  much  of  it  yet  remains  we 
know  not.  But  this  we  know,  that  the  duration  of  the 
world  itself  is  as  nothing  in  comparison  of  eternity. 
But  what  is  our  duration  compared  with  the  duration 
even  of  this  world  ?  It  is  but  a  span,  a  hair's-breadth  ; 
sixty,  seventy,  or  eighty  years,  is  generally  the  highest 
standard  of  human  life,  and  it  is  by  far  the  smallest  num- 
ber of  mankind  that  arrives  to  these  periods.  The  most 
of  them  die  like  a  flower  blasted  in  the  morning,  or  at 
noon  ;  and  we  have  more  reason  to  expect  it  will  be  our 
fate  than  to  hope  the  contrary.  Now  the  span  of  time 
we  enjoy  in  life  is  all  our  time  ;  we  have  no  more  pro 


PREFERRED    TO    THINGS    SEEN.  207 

perty  in  the  rest  of  it  than  in  the  years  before  the  flood. 
All  beside  is  eternity  "  Eternity  !"  We  are  alarmed  at 
the  sound  !  Lost  in  the  prospect !  Eternity  with  respect  to 
God,  is  a  duration  without  beginning  as  well  as  without 
end  !  Eternity,  as  it  is  the  attribute  of  human  nature, 
is  a  duration  that  had  a  beginning  but  shall  never  have 
an  end.  This  is  inalienably  entailed  upon  us  poor  dying 
worms  :  and  let  us  survey  our  inheritance.  Eternity  !  it 
is  a  duration  that  excludes  all  number  and  computation  ; 
days,  and  months,  and  years,  yea,  and  ages,  are  lost  in  it, 
like  drops  in  the  ocean.  Millions  of  millions  of  years, 
as  many  years  as  there  are  sands  on  the  sea-shore,  or 
particles  of  dust  in  the  globe  of  the  earth,  and  these 
multiplied  to  the  highest  reach  of  number,  all  these  are 
nothing  to  eternity.  They  do  not  bear  the  least  imagin- 
able proportion  to  it  ;  for  these  will  come  to  an  end,  as 
certain  as  day  ;  but  eternity  will  never,  never  come  to 
an  end.  It  is  a  line  without  end  ;  it  is  an  ocean  without 
a  shore.  Alas  !  what  shall  I  say  of  it !  It  is  an  infinite 
unknown  something,  that  neither  human  thought  can 
grasp,  nor  human  language  describe. 

Now  place  time  in  comparison  with  eternity,  and  what 
is  it  1  It  shrinks  into  nothing,  and  less  than  nothing. 
What  then  is  that  little  span  of  time  in  which  we  have 
any  property  1  Alas  !  it  is  too  diminutive  a  point  to  be 
conceived.  Indeed,  properly  speaking,  we  can  call  no 
part  of  time  our  own  but  the  present  moment,  this  fleet- 
ing now  :  future  time  is  uncertain,  and  we  may  never  en- 
joy it ;  the  breath  we  now  respire  may  be  our  last  ;  and 
as  to  our  past  time,  it  is  gone,  and  will  never  be  ours 
again.  Our  past  days  are  dead  and  buried,  though  per- 
haps guilt,  their  ghost,  may  haunt  us  still.  And  what  is 
a  moment  to  eternity  1  The  disparity  is  too  great  to 
admit  of  comparison. 

Let  me  now  resume  the  former  particulars,  implied  in 
the  transitoriness  of  visible  and  eternity  of  invisible 
things. 

Visible  things  are  perishable  and  may  soon  leave  us. 
When  we  think  they  are  ours,  they  often  fly  from  our 
embrace.  Riches  may  vanish  into  smoke  and  ashes  by 
an  accidental  fire.  We  may  be  thrown  down  from  the 
pinnacle  of  honor,  and  sink  the  lower  into  disgrace. 
Sensual  pleasures  often  end  in  satiety  and  disgust,  or  in 


208  THINGS    UNSEEN    TO    BE 

sickness  and    death.     Our   friends  are   torn   from    our 
bleeding  hearts  by  the  inexorable  hand  of  death.     Our 
liberty  and  property  may  be  wrested  from   ns  by  the 
hand  of  tyranny,  oppression,  or  fraud.     In  a  word,  what 
do  we  enjoy  but  we  may  lose  1     On  the  other  hand,  our 
miseries  here  are  temporary ;  the  heart  receives  many  a 
wound,  but  it  heals  again.     Poverty  may  end  in  riches ; 
a  clouded  character  may  clear  up,  and  from  disgrace  we 
may  rise  to  honor  ;  we  may  recover  from  sickness  ;  and 
if  we  lose  one  comfort,  we  may  obtain  another.     But  in 
eternity  every  thing    is    everlasting  and   unchangeable. 
Happiness   and  misery  are  both  of  them  without    end ; 
and  the  subjects  of  both  well  know  that  this  is  the  case. 
It  is  this  perpetuity  that  finishes  that  happiness  of  the  in- 
habitants of  heaven  ;  the  least  suspicion  of  an  end  would 
intermingle  itself  with  all  their  enjoyments,  and  embitter 
them :  and  the  greater   the   happiness,   the   greater  the 
anxiety  at  the  expectation  of  losing  it.     But  O,  how  tran- 
sporting for  the  saints  on  high  to  look  forward  through 
the   succession  of  eternal   ages,  with  an   assurance  that 
they  shall  be  happy  through  them  ail,  and  that  they  shall 
feel  no  change  but  from   glory  to  glory  !     On  the  other 
hand,  this  is  the  bitterest  ingredient  in  the  cup  of  divine 
displeasure  in  the  future  state,  that  the  misery  is  eternal. 
O,  with  what  horror  does  that  despairing  cry.  For  ever, 
for  ever,   for  ever  !  echo  through   the  vaults    of  hell  1 
Eternity  is  such  an  important  attribute,  that  it  gives  in- 
finite weight  to  things  that  would  be  insignificant,  were 
thej'  temporary.     A  small  degree  of  happiness,  if  it  be 
eternal,  exceeds  the  greatest  degree  that  is  transitory ; 
and  a  small  degree  of  misery  that  is   everlasting,  is  of 
greater  importance  than  the  greatest  degree  that  soon 
comes  to  an  end.     Would  you  rather  endure   the   most 
painful  tortures  that  nature  can  bear  for  a  moment,  than 
an  eternal  toothache  or  headache  ]    Again,  should  we 
consider  all  the  ingredients  and  causes  of  future  happi- 
ness  and   misery,  we   should  find  them  all   everlasting. 
The  blessed  God  is  an  inexhaustible  perennial  fountain 
of  bliss  ;  his  image  can  never  be  erased  from  the  hearts 
of  glorified  spirits  ;  the  great  contemplation  will  always 
lie  obvious  to  them  ;  and  they  will  always  exist  as  the 
partakers  and  promoters  of  mutual  bliss.     On  the  other 
hand,  in  hell  the  worm  of  conscience  dieth  not,  and  the 


PREFERRED    TO    THINGS    SEEN.  209 

fire  is  not  quenched  ;  divine  justice  is  immortal ;  malig- 
nant spirits  will  always  exist  as  mutual  tormentors,  and 
their  wicked  habits  will  never  be  extirpated. 

And  now,  need  I  ofier  any  thing  farther  to  convince 
you  of  the  superior  importance  of  invisible  and  eternal 
to  visible  and  temporary  things  1  Can  a  rational  crea- 
ture be  at  a  loss  to  choose  in  so  plain  a  case  1  Can  you 
need  any  arguments  to  convince  you  that  an  eternity  of 
the  most  perfect  happiness  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  a 
few  years  of  sordid,  unsatisfying  delight  1  Or  that  the 
former  should  not  be  forfeited  for  the  sake  of  the  latter  1 
Have  you  any  remaining  scruples,  whether  the  little  anx- 
ieties and  mortifications  of  a  pious  life  are  more  intole- 
rable than  everlasting  punishment  1  O !  it  is  a  plain 
case :  what  then  mean  an  infatuated  world,  who  lay  out 
all  their  concern  on  temporal  things,  and  neglect  the  im- 
portant affairs  of  eternity  1  Let  us  illustrate  this  matter 
by  supposition.  Suppose  a  bird  were  to  pick  up  and 
carry  away  a  grain  of  sand  or  dust  from  the  globe  of  this 
earth  once  in  a  thousand  years,  till  it  should  be  at  length 
wholly  carried  away  ;  the  duration  which  this  would  take 
up  appears  a  kind  of  eternity  to  us.  Now  suppose  it  were 
put  to  our  choice,  either  to  be  happy  during  this  time,  and 
miserable  ever  after,  or  to  be  miserable  during  this  time, 
and  happy  ever  after,  which  would  you  choose  1  Why, 
though  this  duration  seems  endless,  yet  he  would  be  a  fool 
that  would  not  make  the  latter  choice  ;  for,  0,  O  !  behind 
this  vast  duration,  there  lies  an  eternity,  which  exceeds  it 
infinitely  more  than  this  duration  exceeds  a  moment.  But 
we  have  no  such  seemingly  puzzling  choice  as  this  ;  the 
matter  with  us  stands  thus — Will  you  choose  the  little 
sordid  pleasures  of  sin  that  may  perhaps  not  last  an  hour, 
at  most,  not  many  years,  rather  than  everlasting  pleasure 
of  the  sublimest  kind  1  Will  you  rather  endure  intole- 
rable torment  for  ever,  than  painfully  endeavor  to  be 
holy  1  What  does  your  conduct,  my  brethren,  answ^er 
to  these  questions  1  If  your  tongues  reply,  they  will 
perhaps  for  your  credit  give  a  right  answer  ;  but  what 
say  your  prevailing  disposition  and  common  practice! 
are  you  not  more  thoughtful  for  time  than  eternity  1 
more  concerned  about  visible  vanities  than  invisible 
realities  (     If  so,  you  make  a  fool's  choice  indeed. 

But  let  it  be  further  considered,  that  the  transitoriness 
18* 


210  THINGS    UNSrKN    TO    BE 

of  visible  things  may  imply  that  we  must  ere  long  be 
removed  from  them.  Though  they  were  immortal  it 
would  be  nothing  to  us,  since  we  are  not  so  in  our  pre- 
sent state.  Within  a  few  years  at  most,  we  shall  be 
beyond  the  reach  of  all  happiness  and  misery  from  tem- 
poral things. 

But  when  we  pass  out  of  this  transitory  state,  we  enter 
upon  an  everlasting  state.  Our  souls  will  always  exist 
exist  in  a  state  of  unchangeable,  boundless  happiness  or 
misery.  It  is  but  a  little  while  since  we  came  into 
being  out  of  a  state  of  eternal  non-existence  ;  but  we 
shall  never  relapse  into  that  state  again.  These  little 
sparks  of  being  shall  never  be  extinguished!  they  will 
survive  the  ruins  of  the  world,  and  kindle  into  immor- 
tality. When  millions  of  millions  of  ages  are  past,  we 
shall  still  be  in  existence  :  and  O !  in  what  unknown 
region !  In  that  of  endless  bliss,  or  of  interminable 
misery  !  Be  this  the  most  anxious  inquiry  of  our  lives  1 
Seeing  then  we  must  soon  leave  this  world,  and  all  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  and  seeing  we  must  enter  on  an  un- 
changeable, everlasting  state  of  happiness  or  misery,  be 
it  our  chief  concern  to  end  our  present  pilgrimage  well. 
It  matters  but  little  Avhether  we  lie  easy  or  not  during 
this  night  of  existence,  if  so  be  we  awake  in  eternal  day. 
It  is  but  a  trifle,  hardly  worth  a  thought,  whether  we  be 
happy  or  miserable  here,  if  we  be  happy  for  ever  here- 
after. What  then  mean  the  bustle  and  noise  of  mankind 
about  the  things  of  time  \  O,  Sirs,  eternity !  awful,  all- 
important  eternity,  is  the  only  thing  that  deserves  a 
thought.     I  come, 

1.  To  show  the  great  and  happy  influence  a  suitable 
impression  of  the  superior  importance  of  invisible  to 
visible  things  would  have  upon  us.  This  I  might  exem- 
plify in  a  variety  of  instances  wiih  respect  to  saints  and 
sinners. 

When  we  are  tempted  to  any  unlawful  pleasures,  how 
would  we  shrink  away  with  horror  from  the  pursuit,  had 
we  a  due  sense  of  the  misery  incurred,  and  the  happi- 
ness forfeited  by  it  ! 

When  we  find  our  hearts  excessively  eager  aftei 
things  below,  had  we  a  suitable  view  of  eternal  things, 
all  these  things  would  shrink  into  trifles  hardly  worth  a 
thought,  much  less  our  principal  concern. 


PREFERRED    TO    THINGS    SEEN.  211 

When  the  sinner,  for  the  sake  of  a  little  present  ease,  , 
and  to  avoid  a  little  present  uneasiness,  stifles  his  con- 
science, refuses  to  examine  his  condition,  casts  the 
thoughts  of  eternity  out  of  his  mind,  and  thinks  it  too 
hard  to  attend  painfully  on  all  the  means  of  grace,  has 
he  then  a  due  estimate  of  eternal  things  1  Alas  !  no  ; 
he  only  looks  at  the  things  that  are  seen.  Were  the 
mouth  of  hell  open  before  him,  that  he  might  behold  its 
torments,  and  had  he  a  sight  of  the  joys  of  paradise,  they 
would  harden  him  into  a  generous  insensibility  of  all  the 
sorrows  and  anxieties  of  this  life,  and  his  inquiry  would 
not  be,  whether  these  things  required  of  him  are  easy  ; 
but,  whether  they  are  necessary  to  obtain  eternal  happi- 
ness, and  avoid  everlasting  misery. 

When  we  suffer  any  reproach  or  contempt  on  a  reli- 
gious account,  how  would  a  due  estimate  of  eternal 
things  fortify  us  with  undaunted  courage  and  make  us 
willing  to  climb  to  heaven  through  disgrace,  rather  than 
sink  to  hell  with  general  applause  ! 

How  would  a  realizing  view  of  eternal  things  animate 
us  in  our  devotions  1  Were  this  thought  impressed  on 
our  hearts  when  in  the  secret  or  social  duties  of  reliT-ion, 
"  1  am  now  acting  for  eternity,"  do  you  think  we  should 
pray,  read,  or  hear  with  so  much  indifferency  and  lan- 
guor 1  O  no  ;  it  would  rouse  us  out  of  our  dead  frames, 
and  call  forth  all  the  vigor  of  our  souls.  With  what  un- 
wearied importunity  should  we  cry  to  God!  with  what 
eagerness  hear  the  word  of  salvation  ! 

How  powerful  an  influence  would  a  view  of  futurity 
have  to  alarm  the  secure  sinner  that  has  thought  little 
of  eternity  all  his  life,  though  it  be  the  only  thing  worth 
thinking  of  1 

How  would  it  hasten  the  determination  of  the  linger- 
ing, wavering  sinner,  and  shock  him  at  the  thought  of 
living  one  day  unprepared  on  the  very  brink  of  eternity ! 

In  a  word,  a  suitable  impression  of  this  would  quite 
alter  the  aspect  of  things  in  the  world,  and  would  turn 
the  concern  and  activity  of  the  world  into  another  chan- 
nel. Eternity  then  would  be  the  principal  concern 
Our  niquiries  would  not  be,  Who  will  show  us  any  tem- 
poral good  1  What  shall  we  eat,  or  what  shall  we 
drink  1  But,  What  shall  w^e  do  to  be  saved  l  How  shall 
we  escape  the  v/rath  to  come  1     Let  us  then  endeavor  to 


212  THE    S.ACItED    IMPORT    OF 

impress  our  hearts  with  invisible  things,  and  for  that 
purpose  consider,  that, 

We  shall,  ere  long,  be  ingulfed  in  this  awful  eternity, 
whether  we  think  of  it  or  not.  A  few  days  or  years  will 
launch  us  there  ;  and  0,  the  surprising  scenes  that  will 
then  open  to  us  ! — 

Without  deep  impressions  of  eternity  on  our  hearts, 
and  frequent  thoughtfulness  about  it,  we  cannot  be  pre- 
pared for  it. 

And  if  we  are  not  prepared  for  it,  0,  how  inconceiva- 
bly miserable  our  case  !  But  if  prepared,  how  incon- 
ceivably happy! 

Look  not  then  at  the  things  which  are  seen^  hut  at  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things  which  are  seen 
are  temporal :  but  the  th  ings  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal. 


SERMON  XII. 

THE    SACRED  IMPORT  OF   THE  CHRISTIAN  NAME 

Acts  xi.  26. — The  Disciples  were  called  Christians  first  at 
Jlntioch. 

Mere  names  are  empty  sounds,  and  but  of  little  con- 
sequence :  and  yet  it  must  be  owned  there  are  names  of 
honor  and  signiftcancy  ;  and,  when  they  are  attended  with 
the  things  signified  by  them,  they  are  of  great  and  sa- 
cred importance. 

Such  is  the  Christian  name  ;  a  name  about  seventeen 
hundred  years  old.  And  now,  when  the  name  is  almost 
lost  in  party-distinctions,  and  the  thing  is  almost  lost  in 
ignorance,  error,  vice,  hypocrisy,  and  formality,  it  may 
l)c  worth  our  while  to  consider  the  original  import  of  that 
sacred  name,  as  a  proper  expedient  to  recover  both  name 
and  thing. 

The  name  of  Christian  was  not  the  first  by  which  the 
followers  of  Ciirist  were  distinguished.  Their  enemies 
called  them  Galileans,  Nnzarcnes,  and  other  names  of 
contempt :    and    among    ihemselves    they    were    called 


THE    CHRISTIAN    IS'AME. 


213 


Saints,  from  their  holiness ;  Disciples,  from  their  learn- 
ing their  religion  from  Christ  as  their  teacher ;  Be- 
lievers, from  their  believing  in  him  as  the  Messiah  ;  and 
Brethren,  from  their  mutual  love  and  their  relation  to 
God  and  each  other.  But  after  some  time  they  were  dis- 
tinguished by  the  name  of  Christians.  This  they  first 
received  in  Antioch,  a  heathen  city,  a  city  infamous  for 
all  manner  of  vice  and  debauchery :  a  city  that  had  its 
name  from  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  the  bitterest  enemy  the 
church  of  the  Jews  ever  had.  A  city  very  rich  and  pow- 
erful, from  whence  the  Christian  name  would  have  an 
extensive  circulation;  but  it  is  long  since  laid  in  ruins, 
unprotected  by  that  sacred  name  :  in  such  a  city  was 
Christ  pleased  to  confer  his  name  upon  his  followers  ; 
and  you  cannot  but  see  that  the  very  choice  of  the  place 
discovers  his  wisdom,  grace,  and  justice. 

The  originahvord,  which  is  here  rendered  called,  seems 
to  intimate  that  they  were  called  Christians  by  divine  ap- 
pointment, for  it  generally  signifies  an  oracular  nomination 
or  a  declaration  from  God  ;  and  to  this  purpose  it  is  gene- 
rally translated.*  Hence  it  follows  that  the  very  name 
Christian,  as  well  as  the  thing,  was  of  a  divine  original ;  as- 
sumed not  by  a  private  agreement  of  the  disciples  among 
themselves,  but  by  the  appointment  of  God.  And  in  this 
view  it  is  a  remarkable  accomplishment  of  an  old  pro- 
phecy of  Isaiah,  chap.  Ixii.  2.  The  Gentiles  shall  see  thy 
righteousness^  and  all  kings  thy  glory^  and  thou  shalt  he 
called  by  a  new  name,  which  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  shall 
name.  So  Isaiah  lxv.l5.  The  Lord  shall  call  his  servants 
by  another  name. 

This  name  was  at  first  confined  to  a  few ;  but  it  soon 
had  a  surprisingly  extensive    propagation  through  the 


warned  of  G,od,  and  the  like  in  Matt.  ii.  22.  So  in  Kom.  xi.  4.  ^pr//(rtTj(T//os, 
IS  rendered  the  answer  of  God.  Rom.  vii.  3,  -xpTijjtaTKrci,  she  shall  be 
called,  (viz.  by  the  divine  law)  an  adnltress.  Luke  ii.  2G,  ;)^or)/(ar((rpoi', 
it  was  revealed  to  him  by  the  Holy  Gho.«t.  Acts  x.  22,  cYP/jy«r(0£.  was 
warned  from  God.  Heb.  viii.  5.  KcYPn/arlffrat  Mwcrcf,  Moses  was  ad- 
monished of  God.  Heb.xi.7.  Noahbeing  warned  of  God,  xP':/^^"''e:f. 
Heb.  xii.  25.  If  they  escaped  not,  who  refused  Him  that  spake  on 
earth  •,  viz.  by  divine  inspiration.  These  are  all  the  places  perhaps  in 
which  the  word  is  used  in  tlie  New  Testament;  and  in  ail  these  it 
seems  to  mean  a  revelation  from  God,  or  something  oracular.  And 
this  is  a  strong  presumption  that  the  word  is  to  be  so  understood  iu  tho 
text. 


214  THE  SACRED  IMPORT  OF 

world.  In  many  countries,  indeed,  it  Mas  lost,  and  mis- 
erably exchanged  for  that  of  Heathen,  Mahometan,  or 
Musselman.  Yet  the  European  nations  still  retain  the 
honor  of  wearing  it.  A  few  scattered  Christians  are 
also  still  to  be  found  here  and  there  in  Asia  and  Africa, 
though  crushed  under  the  oppressions  of  Mahometans 
and  Pagans.  This  name  has  likewise  crossed  the  wide 
ocean  to  the  wilderness  of  America,  and  is  worn  by  the 
sundry  European  colonies  on  this  continent.  We,  in 
particular,  call  ourselves  Christians,  and  should  take  it 
ill  to  be  denied  the  honor  of  that  distinction.  But  do 
we  not  know  the  meaning  and  sacred  import  of  that 
name  ]  Do  we  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  Christians  in- 
deed 1  That  is,  to  be  in  reality  what  we  are  in  name : 
certainly  it  is  time  for  us  to  consider  the  matter  ;  and 
it  is  my  present  design  that  we  should  do  so. 

Now  Ave  may  consider  this  name  in  various  views  ; 
particularly  as  a  name  of  distinction  from  the  rest  of  the 
world,  who  know  not  the  Lord  Jesus,  or  reject  him  as  an 
impostor  ; — as  a  patronymic  name,  pointing  out  the  Fa- 
ther and  Founder  of  our  holy  religion  and  the  Christian 
church  ; — as  a  badge  of  our  relation  to  Christ  as  his  serv- 
ants, his  children,  his  bride  ; — as  intimating  our  unction 
by  the  holy  Spirit,  or  our  being  the  subjects  of  his  influ- 
ences ;  as  Christ  was  anointed  by  the  holy  Spirit,  or 
replenished  with  his  gifts  above  measure,  (for  you  are  to 
observe  that  anointed  is  the  English  of  the  Greek  name 
Christ,  and  of  the  Hebrew,  Messiah*)  and  as  a  name  of 
appropriation,  signifying  that  we  are  the  property  of 
Christ,  and  his  peculiar  people.  Each  of  these  particu- 
lars might  be  profitably  illustrated.!  But  my  present 
design  confines  me  to  consider  the  Christian  name  only 
in  two  views  ;  namely,  as  a  catholic  name,  intended  to 
bury  all  party  denominations  ;  and  as  a  name  of  obliga- 
tion upon  all  that  wear  it  to  be  Christians  indeed,  or  to 
form  their  temper  and  practice  upon  the  sacred  model  of 
Christianity. 

•Psalm  cv.  15.  Touch  not  my  Christe;  that  is,  my  anointed  peo- 
ple.    So  the  Seventy, 

+  See  a  fine  illustration  of  tliem  in  Dr.  Grosvenor's  excellent  easay 
on  tlie  Christian  name ;  from  whom  I  am  not  ashamed  to  borrow  seve- 
ral amiable  sentiments. 


THE    CHRISTIAN    NAME.  215 

1.  Let  us  consider  the  Christian  name  as  a  catholic 
name,  intended  to  bury  all  party  denominations. 

The  name  Gentile  was  odious  to  the  Jews,  and  the 
name  Jew  was  odious  to  the  Gentiles.  The  name  Chris- 
tian swallows  up  both  in  one  common  and  agreeable  ap- 
pellation. He  that  hath  taken  down  the  partition-wall, 
has  taken  away  partition  names,  and  v:nited  ail  his  fol- 
lowers in  his  own  name,  as  a  common  denomination.  For 
now,  says  Paul,  "  there  is  neither  Greek  nor  Jew,  cir- 
cumcision nor  uncircumcision,  Barbarian,  Scythian,  bond 
nor  free;  but  Christ  is  all  and  in  all."  Col.  iii.  11. 
"And  ye  are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  Gal.  iii.  28.  Ac- 
cording to  a  prophecy  of  Zechariah,  The  Lord  shall  be 
ki?ig  over  all  the  earth  ;  and  in  that  day  there  shall  be  one 
Lord,  and  his  name  one.     Zech.  xiv.  9. 

It  is  but  a  due  honor  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  founder  of 
Christianity,  that  ail  who  profess  his  religion  should 
wear  his  name  ;  and  they  pay  an  extravagant  and  even 
idolatrous  compliment  to  his  subordinate  officers  and 
ministers,  when  they  take  their  denomination  from  them. 
Had  this  humor  prevailed  in  the  primitive  church,  instead 
of  the  common  name  Christians,  there  would  have  been 
as  many  party-names  as  there  were  apostles  or  eminent 
ministers.  There  would  have  been  Paulites  from  Paul ; 
Peterites  from  Peter  ;  Johnites  from  John  ;  Barnabites 
from  Barnabas,  &;c.  Paul  took  pains  to  crush  the  first 
risings  of  this  party  spirit  in  those  churches  which  he 
planted ;  particularly  in  Corinth,  where  it  most  prevail- 
ed. While  they  were  saying,  /  am  of  Paul  ;  and  I  of 
^polios  ;  and  I  of  Cephas  ;  and  I  of  Christ  ;  he  puts  this 
pungent  question  to  them  :  "  Is  Christ  divided  V  Are 
his  servants  the  ringleaders  of  so  many  parties  %  Was 
Paul  crucified  for  you  %  or  were  ye  baptized  in  or  into 
the  name  of  Paul,  that  ye  should  be  so  fond  to  take  your 
name  from  him  1  He  counted  it  a  happiness  that  Provi- 
dence had  directed  him  to  such  a  conduct  as  gave  no 
umbrage  of  encouragement  to  such  a  humor.  /  thank 
God,  says  he,  thai  I  baptized  none  of  you,  but  Crispus 
and  Gains  :  lest  any  should  take  occasion  to  say,  I  baptized 
into  my  own  name,  and  was  gathering  a  party  for  myself. 
1  Cor.  i.  12—15. 

But  alas !  how  little  has  this  convictive  reasoning  of 
the  apostle  been  regarded  in  the    future    ages   of   the 


216  THE    SACRED    IHrORT    OF 

church  1  What  an  endless  variety  of  denominations 
taken  from  some  men  of  character,  or  from  some  little 
peculiarities,  has  prevailed  in  the  Christian  world,  and 
crumbled  it  to  pieces,  while  the  Christian  name  is  hardly- 
regarded  1  Not  to  take  notice  of  Jesuits,  Jansenites, 
Dominicans,  Franciscans,  and  other  denominations  and 
orders  in  the  popish  church,  where,  having  corrupted  the 
ihing,  they  act  very  consistently  to  lay  aside  the  name 
what  party  names  have  been  adopted  by  the  Proiestant 
churches,  whose  religion  is  substantially  the  same  com- 
mon Christianity,  and  who  agree  in  much  more  import- 
ant articles  than  in  those  they  differ ;  and  who  therefore 
might  peaceably  unite  under  the  common  name  of 
Christians  1  We  have  Lutherans,  Calvinists,  Arminians, 
Zuinglians,  Churchmen,  Presbyterians,  Independents, 
Baptists,  and  a  long  list  of  names  which  I  cannot  nov/ 
enumerate.  To  be  a  Christian  is  not  enough  now-a- 
days,  but  a  man  must  also  be  something  more  and  bet- 
ter ;  that  is,  he  must  be  a  strenuous  bigot  to  this  or  that 
particular  church.  But  where  is  the  reason  or  propriety 
of  this  1  I  may  indeed  believe  the  same  things  which 
Luther  or  Calvin  believed :  but  I  do  net  believe  them  on 
the  authority  of  Luther  or  Calvin,  but  upon  the  sole  au- 
thority of  Jesus  Christ,  and  therefore  I  should  not  call 
myself  by  their  name,  as  one  of  their  disciples,  but  by 
the  name  of  Christ,  whom  alone  I  acknowledge  as  the 
Author  of  my  religion,  and  my  only  master  and  Lord. 
If  I  learn  my  religion  from  one  of  these  great  men,  it  is 
indeed  proper  I  should  assume  their  name.  If  I  learn  it 
from  a  parliament  or  convocation,  and  make  their  acts 
and  canons  the  rule  and  ground  of  my  faith,  then  it  is 
enough  for  me  to  be  of  the  established  religion,  be  that 
what  it  will :  I  may  with  propriety  be  called  a  mere  con- 
formist ;  that  is  my  highest  character  :  but  I  cannot  be 
properly  called  a  Christian  ;  for  a  Christian  learns  his 
religion,  not  from  acts  of  parliament  or  from  the  deter- 
minations of  councils,  but  from  Jesus  Christ  and  his 
gospel. 

To  guard  against  mistakes  on  this  head,  I  would  ob- 
serve that  every  man  has  a  natural  and  legal  right  to 
judge  and  choose  for  himself  in  matters  of  religion  ;  and 
that  is  a  mean,  supple  soul  indeed,  and  utterly  careless 
about  all  religion,  that  makes  a  compliment  of  this  right 


THE    CHRISTIAN    NAME.  217 

to  any  man,  or  body  of  men  upon  earth,  ^vilether  pope, 
king-,  parliament,  convocation,  or  synod.  In  the  exer- 
cise of  this  right,  and  searching  for  himself,  he  will  find 
that  he  ajrrees  more  fully  in  lesser  as  well  as  more  im- 
portant articles  with  some  particular  church  than  others  ; 
and  thereupon  it  is  his  duty  to  join  in  stated  communion 
with  that  church  ;  and  he  may,  if  he  pleases,  assume  the 
name  which  that  church  wears,  by  way  of  distinction 
from  others  ;  this  is  not  what  I  condemn.  But  for  me 
to  glory  in  the  denomination  of  any  particular  church 
as  my  highest  character  ;  to  lay  more  stress  upon  the 
name  of  a  presbyterian  or  a  churchman,  than  on  the  sa- 
cred name  of  Christian ;  to  make  a  punctilious  agree- 
ment with  my  sentiments  in  the  little  peculiarities  of  a 
party  the  test  of  all  religion  ;  to  make  it  the  object  of 
my  zeal  to  gain  proselytes  to  some  other  than  the  Chris- 
tian name  ;  to  connive  at  the  faults  of  those  of  my  own 
party,  and  to  be  blind  to  the  good  qualities  of  others,  or 
invidiously  to  misrepresent  or  diminish  them  ;  these  are 
the  things  which  deserve  universal  condemnation  from 
God  and  man  ;  these  proceed  from  a  spirit  of  bigotry 
and  faction,  directly  opposite  to  the  generous  catholic 
spirit  of  Christianity,  and  subversive  of  it.  And  yet  how 
common  is  this  spirit  among  all  denominations !  and 
what  mischief  has  it  done  in  the  world  !  Hence  proceed 
contentions  and  animosities^  uncharitable  suspicions  and 
censures,  slander  and  detraction,  partiality  and  unrea- 
sonable prejudices,  and  a  hideous  group  of  evils,  which 
I  cannot  now  describe.  This  spirit  also  hinders  the  pro- 
gress of  serious  practical  religion,  by  turning  the  atten- 
tion of  men  from  the  great  concerns  of  eternity,  and  the 
essentials  of  Christianity,  to  vain  jangling  and  contest 
about  circumstances  and  trifles.  Thus  the  Christian  is 
swallowed  up  in  the  partisan  and  fundamentals  lost  in 
extra-essentials. 

My  brethren,  I  would  now  warn  you  against  this 
wretched,  mischievous  spirit  of  party.  I  would  not  have 
you  entirely  sceptical  and  undetermined  even  about  the 
smaller  points  of  religion,  the  modes  and  forms,  which 
are  the  matters  -of  contention  between  different  church- 
es ;  nor  would  I  have  you  quite  indifferent  what  parti- 
cular church  to  join  with  in  stated  communion.  Endea- 
vor to  find  out  the  truth  even  in  these  circumstantials,  at 
19 


218  THE  SACRED  IMPORT  OF 

least  so  far  as  is  necessary  for  the  directioii  of  your  own 
conduct.  But  do  not  make  these  the  whole  or  tlie  prin- 
cipal part  of  your  religion ;  do  not  be  excessively  zeal- 
ous about  them,  nor  break  the  peace  of  the  church  by 
magisterially  imposing  them  upon  others.  "  Hast  thou 
faith  in  these  little  disputablesl"  it  is  well ;  "but  have  it 
to  thyself  before  God,"  and  do  not  disturb  others  with 
it.  You  may,  if  you  please,  call  yourselves  presbyterians 
and  dissenters,  and  you  shall  bear  without  shame  or  re- 
sentment all  the  names  of  reproach  and  contempt  which 
the  world  may  brand  you  with.  But  as  you  should  not 
be  mortified  on  the  one  side,  so  neither  should  you  glo- 
ry on  the  other.  A  Christian !  a  Christian !  let  that  be 
your  highest  distinction  ;  let  that  be  the  name  which 
you  labor  to  deserve.  God  forbid  that  my  ministrjr 
should  be  the  occasion  of  diverting  your  attention  to 
anything  else.  But  I  am  so  happy  that  I  can  appeal  to 
yourselves,  Vv^hether  I  have  during  several  years  of  my 
ministry  among  you,  labored  to  instil  into  you  the  prin- 
ciples of  bigotry,  and  make  you  warm  proselytes  to  a 
party  :  or  whether  it  has  not  been  the  great  object  of 
my  zeal  to  inculcate  upon  you  the  grand  essentials  of 
our  holy  religion,  and  make  you  sincere,  practical  Chris 
tians.  Alas!  my  dear  people,  unless  I  succeed  in  this, 
I  labor  to  very  little  purpose,  though  I  should  presbyte- 
rianize  the  whole  colony. 

Calumny  and  slander,  it  is  hoped,  have  by  this  time 
talked  themselves  out  of  breath  ;  and  the  lying  spirit 
may  be  at  a  loss  for  materials  to  form  a  popular,  plausi- 
ble falsehood,  which  is  likely  to  be  credited  where  the 
dissenters  are  known.  But  you  have  heard  formerly, 
and  some  of  you  may  still  hear  strange  and  uncommon 
surmises,  wild  conjectures,  and  most  dismal  insinuations. 
But  if  you  would  know  the  truth  at  once,  if  you  would 
be  fully  informed  by  one  that  best  knows  what  religion 
I  am  of,  I  will  tell  you  (with  Mr.  Baxter,)  "I  am  a  Chris- 
tian, a  mere  Christian  ;  of  no  other  religion  :  my  church 
is  the  Christian  church."  The  Bible  !  the  Bible  !  is  my 
religion ;  and  if  I  am  a  dissenter,  I  dissent  only  from 
modes  and  forms  of  religion  which  I  cannot  find  in  my 
Bible  ;  and  which  therefore  I  conclude  have  nothing  to 
do  with  religion,  much  less  should  they  be  made  terms 
of  Christian  communion,  since  Christ,  the  only  lawgiver 


'HIE    CHRISTIAN    NAME.  219 

of  his  church,  has  not  made  tliem  such.  Let  this  congre 
gation  be  that  of  a  Christian  society,  and  I  little  care  what 
other  name  it  wears.  Let  it  be  a  little  Antioch,  where 
the  followers  of  Christ  shall  be  distinguished  by  their  old 
catholic  name.  Christians.  To  bear  and  deserve  this 
character,  let  this  be  our  ambition,  this  our  labor.  Let 
popes  pronounce,  and  councils  decree  what  they  please  ; 
let  statesmen  and  ecclesiastics  prescribe  what  to  believe  ; 
as  for  us,  let  us  study  our  Bibles  :  let  us  learn  of  Christ ; 
and  if  we  are  not  dignified  with  the  smiles,  or  enriched 
with  the  emoluments  of  an  establishment,  we  shall  have 
his  approbation,  who  is  the  only  Lord  and  Sovereign  of 
the  realm  of  conscience,  and  by  whose  judgment  we  must 
stand  or  fall  for  ever. 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  proceed  to  consider  the  other 
view  of  the  Christian  name,  on  which  I  intend  principal- 
ly to  insist  5  and  that  is, 

IL  As  a  name  of  obligation  upon  all  that  bear  it  to  be 
Christians  indeed,  or  to  form  their  temper  and  practice 
upon  the  sacred  model  of  Christianity.  The  prosecution 
of  this  subject  will  lead  me  to  answer  this  important  in- 
quiry. What  is  it  to  be  a  Christian  1 

To  be  a  Christian,  in  the  popular  and  fashionable 
sense,  is  no  difficult  or  excellent  thing.  It  is  to  be  bap- 
tized, to  profess  the  Christian  religion,  to  believe,  like 
our  neighbors,  that  Christ  is  the  Messiah,  and  to  attend 
upon  public  worship  once  a  w^eek,  in  some  church  or 
other  that  bears  only  the  Christian  name.  In  this  sense 
a  man  may  be  a  Christian,  and  yet  be  habitually  careless 
about  eternal  things  ;  a  Christian,  and  yet  fall  short  of 
the  morality  of  many  of  the  heathens  ;  a  Christian,  and 
yet  a  drunkard,  a  swearer,  or  a  slave  to  some  vice  or 
other ;  a  Christian,  and  yet  a  wilful,  impenitent  offender 
against  God  and  man.  To  be  a  Christian  in  this  sense 
is  no  high  character  ;  and,  if  this  be  the  whole  of  Chris- 
tianity, it  is  very  little  matter  whether  the  world  be 
Christianized  or  not.  Bat  is  this  to  be  a  Christian  in  the 
original  and  proper  sense  of  the  word  1  No  j  that  is 
something  of  a  very  different  and  superior  kind.  To  be 
a  Christian  indeed,  is  the  highest  character  and  dignity 
of  which  the  human  nature  is  capable  :  it  is  the  most  ex- 
cellent thing  that  ever  adorned  our  w^orld  :  it  is  a  thing 
that  Heaven  itself  beholds  with  approbation  and  delight' 


220  THE  SACRED  IMPORT  OF 

To  be  a  Christian  is  to  be  like  to  Christ,  from  whom 
the  name  is  taken :  it  is  to  be  a  follower  and  imitator  of 
him  ;  to  be  possessed  of  his  spirit  and  temper  ;  and  to 
live  as  he  lived  in  the  world  :  it  is  to  have  those  just, 
exalted,  and  divine  notions  of  God  and  divine  things, 
and  that  just  and  full  view  of  our  duty  to  God  and  man, 
wdiich  Christ  taught  :  in  short  it  is  to  have  our  senti- 
ments, our  temper,  and  practice,  formed  upon  the  sacred 
model  of  the  gospel.  Let  me  expatiate  a  little  upon  this 
amiable  character. 

1.  To  be  a  Christian,  is  to  depart  from  iniquity.  To 
this  the  name  obliges  us ;  and  without  this  we  have  no 
title  to  the  name.  "  Let  every  one  that  nameth  the  name 
of  Christ  depart  from  iniquity,"  2  Tim.  ii.  19  ;  that  is, 
let  him  depart  from  iniquity,  or  not  dare  to  touch  that 
sacred  name.  Christ  w'as  perfectly  free  from  sin  :  he 
was  "  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from  sin- 
ners." His  followers  also  shall  be  perfectly  free  from 
sin  in  a  little  time  ;  ere  long  they  will  enter  into  the 
pure  regions  of  perfect  holiness,  and  w^ill  drop  all  their 
sins,  with  their  mortal  bodies,  into  the  grave.  But  this, 
alas !  is  not  their  character  in  the  present  state,  but  the 
remains  of  sin  still  cleave  to  them.  Yet  even  in  the 
present  state,  they  are  laboring  after  perfection  in  holi- 
ness. Nothing  can  satisfy  them  until  they  are  conform- 
ed to  the  image  of  God's  dear  Son.  They  are  hourly 
conflicting  with  every  temptation,  and  vigorously  resist- 
ing every  iniquity  in  its  most  alluring  forms.  And, 
though  sin  is  perpetually  struggling  for  the  mastery,  and 
sometimes,  in  an  inadvertent  hour,  gets  an  advantage 
over  them,  yet,  as  they  are  not  under  the  law^,  but  under 
grace,  they  are  assisted  with  recruits  of  grace,  so  that 
no  sin  has  any  habitual  dominion  over  them.  Rom.  vi. 
14.  Hence  they  are  free  from  the  gross  vices  of  the 
age,  and  are  men  of  good  morals.  This  is  their  habitual, 
universal  character ;  and  to  pretend  to  be  Christians 
without  this  requisite,  is  the  greatest  absurdity. 

What  then  shall  we  think  of  the  drunken,  swearing, 
debauched,  defrauding,  rakish,  profligate,  profane  Chris- 
tians, that  have  overrun  the  Christian  world  1  Can  there 
be  a  greater  contradiction  1  A  loyal  subject  in  arms 
against  his  sovereign,  an  ignorant  scholar,  a  sober 
drunkard,  a  charitable  miser,  an  honest  thief,  is  not  a 


THE    CHRISTIAN    NAME.  ,221 

greater  absurdity,  or  a  more  direct  contradiction.  To 
depart  from  iniquity  is  essential  to  Christianity,  and 
without  it  there  can  be  no  such  thing.  There  was  noth- 
ing that  Christ  was  so  remote  from  as  sin  :  and  there- 
fore for  those  that  indulge  themselves  in  it  to  wear  his 
name,  is  just  as  absurd  and  ridiculous  as  for  a  coward  to 
denominate  himself  from  Alexander  the  Great,  or  an 
illiterate  dunce  to  call  himself  a  Newtonian  philosopher. 
Therefore,  if  you  will  not  renounce  iniquity,  renounce 
the  Christian  name  ;  for  you  cannot  consistently  retain 
both.  Alexander  had  a  fellow  in  his  army  that  was  of 
his  own  name,  but  a  mere  coward.  "  Either  be  like 
me,"  says  Alexander,  "  or  lay  aside  my  name."  Ye 
servants  of  sin,  it  is  in  vain  for  you  to  wear  the  name  of 
Christ ;  it  renders  you  the  more  ridiculous,  and  aggra- 
vates your  guilt  :  you  may  with  as  much  propriety  call 
yourselves  lords,  or  dukes,  or  kings,  as  Christians,  while 
you  are  so  unlike  to  Christ.  His  name  is  a  sarcasm,  a 
reproach  to  you,  and  you  are  a  scandal  to  his  name.  His 
name  is  blasphemed  among  the  Gentiles  through  you. 

2.  To  be  a  Christian  is  to  deny  yourselves  and  take 
up  the  cross  and  follow  Christ.  These  are  the  terms  of 
discipleship  fixed  by  Christ  himself.  He  said  to  them  all^ 
If  any  man  will  come  after  7?^e,  let  him  deny  himself^  and 
take  up  his  cross  daily  ^  and  follow  me.  Luke  ix.  23.  To 
deny  ourselves  is  to  abstain  from  the  pleasures  of  sin,  to 
moderate  our  sensual  appetites,  to  deny  our  own  inter- 
est for  the  sake  of  Christ,  and  in  short,  to  sacrifice  every 
thing  inconsistent  with  our  duty  to  him,  when  these 
come  in  competition.  To  take  up  our  cross,  is  to  bear 
sufferings,  to  encounter  difficulties,  and  break  through 
them  all  in  imitation  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  for  his  sake. 
To  folloAV  him,  is  to  trace  his  steps,  and  imitate  his  ex- 
ample, whatever  it  cost  us.  But  this  observation  will 
coincide  with  the  next  head,  and  therefore  I  now  dismiss 
it.  These,  Sirs,  and  these  only  are  the  terms,  if  you 
would  be  Christians,  or  the  disciples  of  Christ.  These 
he  honestly  warned  mankind  of  when  he  first  called 
them  to  be  his  disciples.  He  did  not  take  an  advantage 
of  them,  but  let  them  know  beforehand  upon  what  terms 
they  were  admitted.  He  makes  this  declaration  in  the 
midst  of  a  great  crowd,  in  Luke  xiv.  25,  &c.  There  went 
a  great  multitude  with  him,  fond  of  becoming  his  follow- 
19* 


222  THE    SACPvED    IMPORT    OF 

ers :  hut  he  twned,  and  said  vnto  them,  if  any  man  come  to 
me,  and  hate  not  his  father  and  mother,  and  wife,  and 
children,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  ovm  life  also,  he  cannot  he 
my  disciple.  By  hating,  is  here  meant  a  smaller  degree 
of  love,  or  a  comparative  hatred  ;  that  is,  if  we  would  be 
Christ's  disciples,  we  must  be  willing  to  part  with  our 
dearest  relations,  and  even  our  lives,  when  we  cannot  re- 
tain them  consistently  with  our  duty  to  him.  He  goes 
on :  Whosoever  does  not  hear  his  cross,  and  encounter  the 
greatest  sufferings  after  my  example,  ca?inot  he  my  disci- 
ple. The  love  of  Christ  is  the  ruling  passion  of  every 
true  Christian,  and  for  his  sake  he  is  ready  to  give  up 
all,  and  to  suffer  all  that  earth  or  hell  can  inflict.  He 
must  run  all  risks,  and  cleave  to  his  cause  at  all  adven- 
tures. This  is  the  essential  character  of  every  true 
Christian. 

What  then  shall  we  think  of  those  crowds  among  us 
who  retain  the  Christian  name,  and  yet  will  not  deny 
themselves  of  their  sensual  pleasures,  nor  part  with  their 
temporal  interest  for  the  pake  of  Christ  1  Who  are  so 
far  from  being  willing  to  lay  down  their  lives  that,  they 
cannot  stand  the  force  of  a  laugh  or  a  sneer  in  the  cause 
of  religion,  but  immediately  stumble  and  fall  away  !  or, 
are  they  Christians,  whom  the  commands  of  Christ  can- 
not restrain  from  Avhat  their  depraved  hearts  desire  \ 
No  ;  a  Christian,  without  self-denial,  mortification,  and  a 
supreme  love  to  Jesus  Christ,  is  as  great  a  contradic- 
tion as  fire  without  heat,  or  a  sun  without  light,  a  hero 
without  courage,  or  a  friend  without  love.  And  does 
not  this  strip  some  of  you  of  the  Christian  name,  and 
prove  that  you  have  no  title  at  all  to  it  1 

3.  I  have  repeatedly  observed,  that  a  true  Christian 
must  be  a  follower  or  imitator  of  Christ.  Be  ye  follow- 
ers of  me,  says  St.  Paul,  as  I  also  am  of  Christ.  1  Cor. 
xi.  1.  Christ  is  the  model  after  whom  every  Christian  is 
formed  ;  for,  says  St.  Peter,  he  left  us  an  example,  that 
ice  should  follow  his  steps.  1  Pet.  ii.  21.  St.  Paul  tells 
us,  that  we  must  he  conformed  to  the  image  of  God's  dear 
So?i,  Rom.  vii.  29,  and  that  the  same  mind  must  he  i?i  us 
which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus.  Phil.  ii.  5  ;  unless  we 
partake  of  his  spirit,  and  resemble  him  in  practice ;  un- 
less we  be  as  he  was  in  the  world,  we  have  'no  right  to 
partake  of  his  name. 


THE    CnrtlSTIAN    NAME.  2^3 

Here  I  would  observe,  that  what  was  miraculous  in 
our  Lord's  conduct,  and  peculiar  to  him  as  the  Son  of 
God  and  Mediator,  is  not  a  pattern  for  our  imitation,  but 
only  what  was  done  in  obedience  to  that  law  of  God 
which  was  common  to  him  and  us.  His  heart  glowed  with 
love  to  his  Father ;  he  delighted  in  universal  obedience 
to  him  5  it  was  his  meat  and  drink  to  do  his  will,  even  in 
the  most  painful  and  self-denying  instances  ;  he  abound- 
ed in  devotion,  in  prayer,  meditation,  fasting,  and  every 
religious  duty.  He  was  also  full  of  every  grace  and  vir- 
tue towards  mankind  ;  meek  and  lowly,  kind  and  bene- 
volent, just  and  charitable,  merciful  and  compassionate ; 
a  dutiful  son,  loyal  subject,  a  faithful  friend,  a  good 
master,  and  an  active,  useful,  public-spirited  member  of 
society.  He  was  patient  and  resigned,  and  yet  undaunt- 
ed and  brave  under  sufferings :  he  had  all  his  appetites 
and  passions  under  proper  government,  he  was  heavenly- 
minded,  above  this  world  in  heart  while  he  dwelt  in  it. 
Beneficence  to  the  souls  and  bodies  of  men  was  the  busi- 
ness of  his  life  ;  for  he  went  about  doing  good.  Acts  x. 
38.  This  is  an  imperfect  sketch  of  his  aniiable  character  ; 
and  in  these  things  every  one  that  deserves  to  be  called 
after  his  name,  does  in  some  measure  resemble  and  imi- 
tate him.  This  is  not  only  his  earnest  endeavor,  but 
what  he  actually  attains,  though  in  a  much  inferior  de- 
gree ;  and  his  imperfections  are  the  grief  of  his  heart. 
This  resemblance  and  imitation  of  Christ  is  essential  to 
the  very  being  of  a  Christian,  and  without  it,  it  is  a  vain 
pretence.  And  does  your  Christianity,  my  br*.  .nren, 
stand  this  test  \  may  one  know  that  you  belong  to  Christ 
by  your  living  like  him,  and  discovering  the  same  tem- 
per and  spirit  \  Do  the  manners  of  the  divine  Master 
spread  through  all  his  family  ;  and  do  you  show  that  you 
belong  to  it  by  your  temper  and  conduct  \  Alas  !  if  you 
must  be  denominated  from  hence,  would  not  some  of 
you  with  more  propriety  be  called  Epicureans  from 
Epicurus,  the  sensual  atheistic  philosopher,  or  Mam 
monites  from  Mammon,  the  imaginary  god  of  riches,  or 
Bacchanals  from  Bacchus,  the  god  of  wine,  than  Chris- 
tians from  Christ,  the  most  perfect  pattern  of  living  ho- 
liness and  virtue  that  ever  was  exhibited  in  the  world  % 

If  you  claim  the  name  of  Christians,  where  is  that  ar- 
dent devotion,  that  affectionate  love  to  God,  that  zeal  for 


224  THE  SACRED  IMPORT  OF 

his  glory,  that  alacrity  in  his  service,  that  resignation  to 
his  will,  that  generous  benevolence  to  mankind,  that  zeal 
to  promote  their  best  interests,  that  meekness  and  for- 
bearance under  ill  usage,  that  unwearied  activity  in  doing 
good  to  all,  that  self-denial  and  heavenly-mindedness 
which  shone  so  conspicuous  in  Christ,  whose  holy  name 
you  bear  1  Alas !  while  you  are  destitute  of  those 
graces,  and  yet  wear  his  name,  you  burlesque  it,  and 
turn  it  into  a  reproach  both  to  him  and  yourselves. 

I  might  add,  that  the  Christian  name  is  not  hereditary 
to  you  by  your  natural  birth,  but  you  must  be  born 
anew  of  the  spirit  to  entitle  you  to  this  new  name ;  that 
a  Christian  is  a  believer,  believing  in  Him  after  whom  he 
is  called  as  his  only  Savior  and  Lord,  and  that  he  is  a 
true  penitent.  Repentance  was  incompatible  with 
Christ's  character,  who  was  perfectly  righteous,  and  had 
no  sin  of  which  to  repent ;  but  it  is  a  proper  virtue  in  a 
sinner,  without  which  he  cannot  be  a  Christian.  On 
these  and  several  other  particulars  I  might  enlarge,  but 
my  time  will  not  allow  ;  I  shall  therefore  conclude  with 
a  few  reflections. 

First,  You  rftay  hence  see  that  the  Christian  character 
is  the  highest,  the  most  excellent  and  sublime  in  the 
world  ;  it  includes  everything  truly  great  and  amiable. 
The  Christian  has  exalted  sentiments  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  just  notions  of  duty,  and  a  proper  temper  and  con- 
duct towards  God  and  man.  A  Christian  is  a  devout 
worshipper  of  the  God  of  heaven,  a  cheerful  observer  of 
his  whole  law,  and  a  broken-hearted  penitent  for  his  im- 
perfections. A  Christian  is  a  complication  of  all  the 
amiable  and  useful  graces  and  virtues  ;  temperate  and  so- 
ber, just,  liberal,  compassionate  and  benevolent,  humble, 
meek,  gentle,  peaceable,  and  in  all  things  conscientious. 
A  Christian  is  a  good  parent,  a  good  child,  a  good  mas- 
ter, a  good  servant,  a  good  husband,  a  good  wife,  a  faith- 
ful friend,  an  obliging  neighbor,  a  dutiful  subject,  a  good 
ruler,  a  zealous  patriot,  and  an  honest  statesman  ;  and  as 
far  as  he  is  such,  so  far,  and  no  farther,  he  is  a  Christian 
And  can  there  be  a  more  amiable  and  excellent  character 
exhibited  to  your  view  1  It  is  an  angelic,  a  divine  cha- 
racter. Let  it  be  your  glory  and  your  ambition  to  wear 
it  with  a  good  grace,  to  wear  it  so  as  to  adorn  it 

To  acquire  the  title  of  kings  and  lords,  is  not  in  youi 


'  THE    CHRISTIAN    NAME.  225 

power  ;  to  spread  your  fame  as  scholars,  philosophers, 
or  heroes,  may  be  beyond  your  reach  ;  but  here  is  a  cha- 
racter more  excellent,  more  amiable,  more  honorable 
than  all  these,  which  it  is  your  business  to  deserve  and 
maintain.  And  blessed  be  God,  this  is  a  dignity  which 
the  meanest  among  you,  which  beggars  and  slaves  may 
attain.  Let  this  therefore  be  an  object  of  universal  am- 
bition and  pursuit,  and  let  every  other  name  and  title  be 
despised  in  comparison  of  it.  This  is  the  way  to  rise  to 
true  honor  in  the  estimate  of  God,  angels,  and  good 
men.  What  though  the  anti-christian  Christians  of  our 
age  and  country  ridicule  you  1  let  them  consider  their 
own  absurd  conduct  and  be  ashamed.  They  think  it  an 
honor  to  wear  the  Christian  name,  and  yet  persist  in  un- 
christian practices ;  and  who  but  a  fool,  with  such  pal- 
pable contradiction,  would  think  so  1  A  beggar  that 
fancies  himself  a  king  and  trails  his  rags  with  the  gait 
of  majesty,  as  though  they  were  royal  robes,  is  not  so 
ridiculous  as  one  that  will  usurp  the  Christian  name  with- 
out a  Christian  practice  ;  and  yet  such  Christians  are  the 
favorites  of  the  world.  To  renounce  the  profession  of 
Christianity  is  barbarous  and  profane  ;  to  live  according 
to  that  profession,  a^^d  practise  Christianity,  is  precise- 
ness  and  fanaticism.  Can  anything  be  more  preposter- 
ous 1  This  is  as  if  one  should  ridicule  learning,  and  yet 
glory  in  the  character  of  a  scholar  ;  or  laugh  at  bravery, 
and  yet  celebrate  the  praises  of  heroes.  And  are  they 
fit  to  judge  of  the  wisdom  and  propriety,  or  their  cen- 
sures to  be  regarded,  who  fall  into  such  an  absurdity 
themselves  \ 

Secondly,  Hence  you  may  see  that,  if  all  the  profes- 
sors of  Christianity  should  behave  in  character,  the  reli- 
gion of  Christ  would  soon  appear  divine  to  all  mankind, 
and  spread  through  all  nations  of  the  earth.  Were 
Christianity  exhibited  to  the  life  in  all  its  native  inherent 
glories,  it  would  be  as  needless  to  offer  arguments  to 
prove  it  divine,  as  to  prove  that  the  sun  is  full  of  light : 
the  conviction  would  flash  upon  all  mankind  by  its  own 
intrinsic  evidence.  Did  Christians  exemplify  the  religion 
they  profess,  all  the  world  would  immediately  see  that 
that  religion  which  rendered  them  so  different  a  people 
from  all  the  rest  of  mankind,  is  indeed  divine,  and  every 
way  worthy  of  universal  acceptance.       *         #         * 


226        THE    SACRED    IMPORT    OF  THE    CHRISTIAN    NAJME. 

*  *  *  *  Then  would  Heathenism,  Mahome- 
tanism,  and  all  the  false  reli<rions  in  the  world,  fall  before 
the  heaven-born  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Then  it  would 
be  sufficient  to  convince  an  infidel  just  to  bring  him  into 
a  Christian  country,  and  let  him  observe  the  different  face 
of  things  there  from  all  the  world  beside.     But  alas  ! 

Thirdly-,  How  different  is  the  Christian  world  from  the 
Christian  religion  1  Who  would  imagine  that  they  who 
take  their  name  from  Christ  have  any  relation  to  him,  if 
we  observe  their  spirit  and  practice  1  Should  a  stranger 
learn  Christianity  from  what  he  sees  in  Popish  coimtries, 
he  would  conclude  it  principally  consisted  in  bodily  aus- 
terities, in  worshipping  saints,  images,  relics,  and  a  thou- 
sand trifles,  in  theatrical  fopperies  and  insignificant  cere- 
monies, in  believing  implicitly  all  the  determinations  of 
a  fallible  man  as  infallibly  true,  and  in  persecutinor  all 
that  differ  from  them,  and  showing  their  love  to  their 
souls  by  burning  their  bodies.  In  Protestant  countries, 
alas!  the  face  of  things  is  but  little  better  as  to  good 
morals  and  practical  religion.  Let  us  take  our  own  coun- 
try for  a  sample.  Suppose  a  Heathen  or  Mahometan 
should  take  a  tour  through  Virginia  to  learn  the  religion 
of  the  inhabitants  from  their  general  conduct,  what 
would  he  conclude  1  would  he  not  conclude  that  all  the 
religion  of  the  generality  consisted  in  a  few  Sunday  for- 
malities, and  that  the  rest  of  the  week  they  had  nothing 
to  do  with  God,  or  any  religion,  but  were  at  liberty  to 
live  as  they  please  \  And  were  he  told  these  were  the 
followers  of  one  Christ,  and  were  of  his  religion,  would 
he  not  conclude  that  he  was  certainly  an  impostor,  and 
the  minister  of  sin  %  But  when  he  came  to  find  that, 
notwithstanding  all  this  licentiousness,  they  professed 
the  pure  and  holy  religion  of  the  Bible,  how  would  he  be 
astonished,  and  pronounce  them  the  most  inconsistent, 
bare-faced  hypocrites  !  My  brethren,  great  and  heavy 
is  the  guilt  that  lies  upon  our  country  upon  this  account. 
It  is  a  scandal  to  the  Christian  name ;  it  is  guilty  of  con- 
firming the  neighboring  heathen  in  their  prejudices,  and 
hinders    the    propagation    of    Christianity    through    the 

world.  O  let  not  us  be  accessary  to  this  dreadful  guilt, 
but  do  all  we  can  to  recommend  our  religion  to  univer- 
sal acceptance  ! — I  add. 

Fourthly,  and  lastly,  Let  us  examine  whether  we  have 


THE    DIVINE    MERCY    TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS.         227 

any  just  title  to  the  Christian  name  ;  that  is,  whether  we 
are  Christians  indeed  ;  for  if  we  h.ave  not  the  thing,  to  re- 
tain the  name  is  the  most  inconsistent  folly  and  hypocrisy, 
and  will  answer  no  end  but  to  aggravate  our  condemna- 
tion. A  lost  Christian  is  the  most  shocking  character  in 
hell ;  and  unless  you  be  such  Christians  as  I  have  describ- 
ed, it  will  ere  long  be  your  character.  Therefore,  be 
followers  of  Christ,  imbibe  his  spirit,  practise  his  pre- 
cepts, and  depart  from  iniquity.  Otherwise  he  will  sen- 
tence you  from  him  at  last  as  workers  of  iniquity.  Jlnd 
then  will  I  profess  unto  them  (they  are  Christ's  own 
words)  /  never  knew  you  ;  depart  from  me^  ye  that  work 
iniquity.    Matt.  vii.  23. 


SERMON  XIII. 

THE    DIVINE    MERCY    TO    MOURNING   PENITENTS. 

Ier.  xxxi.  18,  19,  20. — /  have  surely  heard  Ephraim  be- 
moaning himself  thus,  Thou  hast  chastised  me^  and  I  was 
chastised^  as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke  :  turn 
thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned;  for  thou  art  the  Lord  my 
God.  Surely  after  that  I  was  turned,  I  repented  ;  and 
after  that  I  was  instructed,  I  smote  upon  my  thigh  :  I 
was  ashamed,  yea,  even  confou7ided,  because  I  did  bear 
(Tfie  reproach  of  my  youth.  Is  Ephraim  my  dear  son  7 
IS  he  a  pleasant  child :  for  since  I  spake  against  him,  I 
do  earnestly  remember  him  still :  therefore  my  bowels  are 
troubled  for  hini  :  I  will  surely  have  mercy  upon  him^ 
saith  the  Lord. 

In  these  words  the  mourning  language  of  a  penitent 
child,  sensible  of  ingratitude,  and  at  once  desirous  and 
ashamed  to  return,  and  the  tender  language  of  a  compas- 
sionate father,  at  once  chastising,  pitying,  and  pardoning, 
are  sweetly  blended :  and  the  images  are  so  lively  and 
moving,  that  if  they  were  regarded  only  as  poetical  de- 
scriptions founded  upon  fiction,  they  would  be  irresisti- 
bly striking.     But  when  we  consider  them  as  the  most 


228  THE    DIVITsE    MERCY 

important  realities,  as  descriptive  ot  that  ingenuous  re- 
pentance which  v/e  must  all  feel,  and  of  that  gracious 
acceptance  we  must  all  obtain  from  God  before  we  can 
be  happy,  what  almighty  energy  should  they  have  upon 
us  !  how  may  our  hearts  dissolve  within  us  at  the  sound 
of  such  pathetic  complaints,  and  such  gracious  encou- 
ragements !  Hard  indeed  is  that  heart  that  can  hear 
these  penitential  strains  without  being  melted  into  the 
like  tender  relentings  ;  and  inveterate  is  that  melancholy, 
incurable  is  that  despondency,  that  can  listen  to  such  ex- 
pressions of  fatherly  compassion  and  love,  without  being 
cheered  and  animated. 

This  whole  chapter  had  a  primary  reference  to  the 
Jews,  and  such  of  the  Israelites  as  might  mingle  with 
them  in  their  return  from  the  Babylonian  captivity.  As 
they  were  enslaved  to  foreigners,  and  removed  from  their 
native  land  for  their  sin,  so  they  could  not  be  restored 
but  upon  their  repentance.  Upon  this  condition  only  a 
restoration  was  promised  them.  Lev.  xxvi.  40-43  ;  Deut. 
XXX.  1-16. 

In  this  chapter  we  have  a  prediction  of  their  repentance 
under  the  heavy  chastisement  of  seventy  years'  captivity, 
and  of  their  return  thereupon  to  their  own  land.  In  the 
text  the  whole  body  of  penitents  among  them  is  called 
by  the  name  of  a  single  person,  Ephraim.  In  the  pro- 
phetic writings,  the  kingdom  of  the  ten  tribes,  as  distin- 
guished from  that  of  Judah,  is  frequently  denominated  by 
this  name,  because  the  Ephraimites  were  a  principal  fa- 
mily among  them.  And  sometimes,  as  here,  the  name  is 
given  to  the  Jews,  probably,  on  account  of  the  great 
number  of  Ephraimites  mingled  with  them,  especially  on 
their  return  from  captivity.  All  the  penitent  Jews  are 
included  under  this  single  name,  to  intimate  their  una- 
nimity in  their  repentance  ;  their  hearts  consented,  like 
the  heart  of  one  man,  to  turn  to  the  Lord,  from  whom 
with  horrid  unanimity  they  had  revolted.  This  single 
name  Ephraim  also  renders  this  passage  more  easily  appli- 
cable to  particular  penitents  in  all  ages.  Every  one  of 
such  may  insert  his  own  name,  instead  of  that  of  Ephraim, 
and  claim  the  encouragement  originally  given  to  them. 
And  indeed  this  whole  passage  is  applicable  to  all  true 
penitents.  Repenting  Ephraim  did  but  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  every  one  of  you,  my  brethren,  who  is  made 


TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS.  229 

sensible  of  the  plague  of  his  own  heart,  and  turned  to 
the  Lord  ;  and  the  tender  language  of  forgiving  grace  to 
mourning  Ephraim  is  addressed  to  each  of  you  ;  and  it 
is  with  a  view  to  you  that  I  intend  to  consider  this  scrip- 
ture. 

The  text  naturally  resolves  itself  into  three  parts,  as  it 
consists  of  three  verses.  In  the  first  verse  we  find  the 
careless,  resolute  impenitent,  reduced  by  chastisement 
to  a  sense  of  his  danger,  and  the  necessity  of  turning  to 
God ;  and  yet  sensible  of  his  utter  inability,  and  there- 
fore crying  for  the  attractive  influences  of  divine  grace. 
You  hear  Ephraim  bemoaning  his  wretched  case,  and 
pouring  out  importunate  groans  for  relief,  thus  :  Thou 
hast  chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised,  like  a  bullock  unac- 
customed to  the  yoke,  that  struggles  and  wearies  himself 
in  vain  to  get  free  from  it,  and  must  be  broken  and  tamed 
with  severe  usage.  "  Thus  stubborn  and  unmanageable 
have  I  been ;  and  now,  when  I  am  convinced  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  return  to  thee,  I  feel  my  obstinate  heart  re- 
luctate, like  a  wild  ox,  and  I  cannot  come.  I  therefore 
cry  to  thee  for  the  attractive  influence  of  thy  grace  ; " 
Turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned  ;  draw  me,  and  I  shall 
run  after  thee.  "  To  whom  but  to  thee  should  I  return  ; 
and  to  whom  but  to  thee  should  I  apply  for  strength  to 
return  ]  For  thou  only  art  the  Lord  my  God,  who  can 
help  me,  and  whom  I  am  under  infinite  obligations  to 
serve." — Thus  the  awakened  sinner  prayed  5  and  mercy 
listened  to  his  cries.  The  attractive  influences  of  divine 
grace  are  granted,  and  he  is  enabled  to  return ;  which 
introduces  the  second  branch  of  the  text  in  the  19th 
verse,  in  \vhich  the  new  convert  is  represented  as  reflect- 
ing upon  the  efficacy  of  converting  grace,  and  the  glori- 
ous change  wrought  in  him  by  it :  Surely  after  that  I  was 
turned  I  repented  ;  and  after  that  I  was  instructed,  I  smote 
upon  my  thigh :  I  was  ashamed,  yea,  even  co7ifounded,  be- 
cause I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my  youth. 

While  the  returning  prodigal  is  venting  himself  m  these 
plaintive  strains  in  some  solitary  corner,  his  heavenly 
Father's  bowels  are  moving  over  him.  The  third  part 
of  the  text  represents  the  blessed  God  listening  to  the 
cries  of  his  mourning  child.  /  have  surely  heard ;  or, 
according  to  the  emphasis  of  the  original,  hearing,  I  have 
heard  Ephraim  bemoaning  himself:  and  while  Ephraim  i« 
20 


0 
230  THE    lU'LXE    MERCY 

going  on  in  his  passionate  complaints,  God,  as  it  were 
interrupts  him,  and  surprises  him  with  the  soothing  voice 
of  mercy.  Is  Ephraiin  my  dear  son  1  is  /;e  a  pleasant 
childl  *  surely  he  is.  Or  we  may  understand  the  words 
thus,  as  if  God  should  say,  "  Whose  mourning  voice  is 
this  I  hear  1  Is  this  Ephraim,  my  dear  son  1  Is  this  my 
pleasant  child  that  bemoans  himself  as  a  helpless  or- 
phan, or  one  abandoned  by  his  father  1  And  can  I  bear 
to  hear  his  complaints  -^dthout  mingling  divine  consola- 
tions with  them,  and  assuring  him  of  pardon  1  No  ;  for 
since  I  spake  ag-ainst  him  in  my  threatenings,  I  do  ear- 
nestly remember  him  still;"  therefore  my  bowels  are  trou- 
bled for  him  :  I  will  surely  have  mercy  upon  him^  saith 
the  Lord. 

I  shall  endeavor  to  illustrate  each  of  these  parts  of 
the  text,  and  thus  shall  be  led  to  describe  the  preparative 
exercise,  the  nature  and  concomitants  of  true  repent- 
ance ;  and  the  tender  compassions  of  Heaven  towards 
mourning  penitents. 

I.  Let  us  view  the  returning  sinner  under  his  first  spi- 
ritual concern,  which  is  generally  preparatory  to  evan- 
gelical repentance. 

And  where  shall  we  find  him  %  And  what  is  he  doing  ] 
We  shall  not  find  him,  as  usual,  in  a  thoughtless  hurry 
about  earthly  things,  confining  all  his  attention  to  these 
trifles,  and  unmindful  of  the  important  concerns  of  eter- 
nity. We  shall  not  find  him  merry,  inconsiderate,  and 
vain,  in  a  circle  of  jovial,  careless  companions ;  much 
less  shall  we  find  him  intrepid  and  secure  in  a  course  of 
sin,  gratifying  his  flesh,  and  indulging  his  lusts.  In  this 
enchanted  road  the  crowd  of  hardy  impenitents  pass  se- 
cure and  cheerful  do^vn  to  the  chambers  of  death,  but 
the  awakened  sinner  flies  from  it  with  horror;  or,  if  his 
depraved  heart  would  tempt  him  to  walk  in  it,  he  cannot 
take  many  steps  before  he  is  shocked  with  the  horrid 
ipparition  of  impending  danger.  He  finds  the  flattering 
paths  of  sin  haunted  with  the  terrible  spectres  of  guilt ; 
And  the  sword  of  divine  vengeance  gleams  bright  and 
dreadful  before  him,  and   seems  lifted  to  give  the  fatal 

*  Though  affirmative  interrogations  are  generally  to  be  understood  as 
strong  negations,  yet  so  iietimes  they  are  to  be  understood  affirmatively. 
See  1  Sam.  ii  27,  28.    Job  xx.  4. 


TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS.  231 

blow.  You  will,  therefore,  find  the  awakened  sinner  so- 
litary ami  solemn  in  some  retired  corner,  not  deceiving 
himself  with  vain  hopes  of  safety  in  his  present  state, 
but  alarmed  with  apprehensions  of  danger  :  not  planning 
schemes  for  his  secular  advantage,  nor  asking,  with  sor- 
did anxiety,  "  Who  will  show  me  any  temporal  good  1  " 
but  solicitous  about  his  perishing  soul,  and  anxiously  in- 
quiring, what  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  He  is  not  congra- 
tidating  himself  upon  the  imaginary  goodness  of  his  heart 
or  life,  or  priding  himself  with  secret  wonder  in  a  rich 
conceit  of  his  excellences  ;  but  you  will  hear  him,  in  his 
sorrowful  retirement,  bemoaning,  or  (as  the  original  sig- 
nifies) condoling  himself.  He  sees  his  case  to  be  really 
awful  and  sad,  and  he,  as  it  were,  takes  up  a  lamentation 
over  himself.  He  is  no  more  senseless,  hard-hearted, 
and  self-applauding,  as  he  Avas  wont  to  be  ;  but,  like  a 
mourning  turtle,  he  bewails  himself  in  such  tragical 
strains  as  these  :  "  Unhappy  creature  that  I  am !  into 
what  a  deplorable  state  have  I  brought  myself!  find  how 
long  have  I  continued  in  it,  with  the  insensibility  of  a 
rock  and  the  stupidity  of  a  brute  1  Now  I  may  mourn 
over  my  past  neglected  and  unimproved  days,  as  so 
many  deceased  friends,  sent  indeed  from  heaven  to  d"o  me 
good,  but  cruelly  killed  by  my  ungrateful  neglect  and 
continued  delays  as  to  a  return  to  God  and  holiness. 
Fly  back,  ye  abused  months  and  years  ;  arise  from  the 
dead ;  restore  me  your  precious  moments  again,  that  I 
may  unravel  the  web  of  life,  and  form  it  anew  ;  and  that 
I  may  improve  the  opportunities  I  have  squandered  away. 
Vain  and  desperate  wish !  the  wheels  of  time  will  not 
return,  and  what  shall  I  do  1  Here  I  am,  a  guilty,  ob- 
noxious creature,  uncertain  of  life  and  unfit  to  die  ;  alien- 
ated from  God,  and  incapable  (alas!  I  may  add  unwil- 
ling to  return)  a  slave  to  sin,  and  too  feeble  to  break  the 
fetters  of  inveterate  habits  ;  liable  to  the  arrest  of  divine 
justice,  and  unable  to  deliver  myself;  exposed  to  the 
vengeance  of  Heaven,  yet  can  make  no  atonement  ;  des- 
titute of  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  uncertain,  av/fully  un- 
certain, whether  I  shall  ever  obtain  it.  Unhappy  crea- 
ture !  How  justly  may  I  take  up  a  lam.entation  over  my- 
self!  Pity  me,  ye  brute  creation,  that  know  iict  to  sin, 
and  therefore  cannot  know  the  misery  of  my  ^ase  ;  and 
have  pity  upon  me,  have  pity  upon  me,  O  ye  my  friends! 


232  THE    DIVINE    MERCY 

and  if  these  guilty  lips  may  dare  to  pronounce  thy  in- 
jured name,  O  thou  God  of  grace,  have  pity  upon  me  ! 
But,  alas !  I  deserve  no  pity,  for  how  long  have  I  denied 
it  to  myself!  Ah,  infatuated  wretch!  why  did  not  I 
sooner  begin  to  secure  my  unhappy  soul,  that  has  lain 
all  this  time  neglected,  and  unpitied,  upon  the  brink  of 
ruin  !  Why  did  I  not  sooner  lay  my  condition  to  heart  1 
Alas  !  I  should  have  gone  on  thoughtless  still,  had  I  not 
been  awakened  by  the  kind  severity,  the  gracious  chas- 
tisements of  my  dishonored  Father  !  " 

Thou  hast  chastised  me.  This,  as  spoken  by  Ephraim, 
had  a  particular  reference  to  the  Babylonish  captivity  ; 
but  we  may  naturally  take  occasion  from  it  to  speak  of 
those  calamities  in  general,  whether  outward  or  inward, 
that   are  made  the  means  of  alarming  the  secure  sinner. 

There  are  many  ways  which  our  heavenly  Fathei 
takes  to  correct  his  undutifiil  children  imtil  they  return 
to  him.  Sometimes  he  kindly  takes  away  their  health, 
the  abused  occasion  of  their  wantonness  and  security,  and 
restrains  them  from  their  lusts  with  fetters  of  affliction. 
This  is  beautifully  described  by  Elihu.  "  He  is  chas- 
tened with  pain  upon  his  bed,  and  the  multitude  of  his 
bones  with  strong  pain  ;  so  that  his  life  abhorreth  bread, 
and  his  soul  dainty  meat.  His  flesh  is  consumed  away, 
that  it  cannot  be  seen,  and  his  bones,  that  were  not  seen, 
stick  out :  yea,  his  soul  draweth  near  unto  the  grave,  and 
his  life  unto  the  destroyers.  If  there  be  a  messenger 
with  him,  a  peculiarly  skilful  interpreter,  one  among  a 
thousand,  to  show  unto  man  his  uprightness,  then  he  is 
gracious  unto  him,  and  saith,  deliver  him  from  going 
down  to  the  pit ; — I  have  found  a  ransom."  Job  xxxiii. 
19,  &c.  "  Sometimes  God  awakens  the  sinner  to  be- 
think himself,  by  stripping  him  of  his  earthly  supports 
and  comforts,  his  estate,  or  his  relatives,  which  drew 
away  his  heart  from  eternal  things,  and  thus  brings  him 
to  see  the  necessity  of  turning  to  God,  the  fountain  of 
bliss,  upon  the  failure  of  the  streams.  Thus  he  dealt 
with  profligate  Manasseh.  2  Chron.  xxxiii.  11,  12.  He 
was  taken  in  "  thorns,  and  bound  in  fetters,  and  carried 
to  Babylon ;  and  when  he  was  in  affliction  he  sought  the 
Lord,  and  humbled  himself  greatly  before  him,  and  pray^ 
od  unto  him,"  &c.  Thus  also  God  promises  to  do  with 
his  chosen :  "  I  will  cause  you  to  pass  under  my  rod, 


TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS  233 

and  bring  you  into  the  bond  of  my  covenant."  Ezek. 
XX.  37 ;  Psl.  Ixxxix.  32  ;  Prov.  xxii.  15,  xxix.  15. 

But  the  principal  means  of  correction  which  God  uses 
for  the  end  of  return  to  him  is  that  of  conscience ;  and 
indeed  without  this,  all  the  rest  are  in  vain.  Outward 
afflictions  are  of  service  only  as  they  tend  to  awaken  the 
conscience  from  its  lethargy  to  a  faithful  discharge  of 
Its  trust.  It  is  conscience  that  makes  the  sinner  sensi- 
ble of  his  misery  and  scourges  him  till  he  return  to  his 
duty.  This  is  a  chastisement  the  most  severe  that  hu- 
man nature  can  endure.  The  lashes  of  a  guilty  con- 
science are  intolerable  ;  and  some  under  them  have 
chosen  strangling  and  death  rather  than  life.  The  spirit 
of  a  man  may  bear  him  up  under  outward  infirmities ;  but 
Avhen  the  spirit  itself  is  wounded,  who  can  bear  it  ?  Prov. 
xviii.  1^.  Conscience  is  a  serpent  in  his  breast,  Avhich 
bites  and  gnaws  his  heart ;  and  he  can  no  more  avoid  it, 
than  he  can  fly  from  himself.  Its  force  is  so  great  and 
universal  that  even  the  heathen  poet  Juvenal,  not  famous 
for  the  delicacy  of  his  morals,  taught  by  experience, 
could  speak  feelingly  of  its  secret  blows,  and  of  agoniz- 
ing sweats  under  its  tortures.* 

Let  not  such  of  you  as  have  never  been  tortured  with 
its  remorse,  congratulate  yourselves  upon  your  happi- 
ness, for  you  are  not  innocents  ;  and  therefore  con- 
science v/ill  not  always  sleep  ;  it  will  not  always  lie  tor- 
pid and  inactive,  like  a  snake  benumbed  with  cold,  in 
your  breast.  It  wdll  awaken  you  either  to  your  conver- 
sion or  condemnation.  Either  the  fire  of  God's  wrath 
flaming  from  his  law  will  enliven  it  in  this  world  to  sting 
you  with  medicinal  anguish  ;  or  the  unquenchable  fire 
of  his  vengeance  in  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  will 
thaw  it  into  life,  and  then  it  will  horribly  rage  in  your 
breast,  and  diffuse  its  tormenting  poison  through  your 
whole  frame :  and  then   it  will   become  a  never  dying 


-Frigida  mens  est 


Criminibus,  tacita  sudant  prsecordia  culpa. 

JuvEN.  Sat.  I. 


-Cur  tamen  hos  tu 


Erasisse  putes,  quos  diri  conscia  facti 
Mens  habet  aitonitos,et  surdo  verbere  csedit, 
Occultum  quatiente  animo  tortore  flagellum  ! 

Id.  Sat.  XIII. 

20* 


234  THE    DIVINE    BIERCY 

worm,  and  prey  upon  your  hearts  for  ever.  But  if  you  no*w 
suffer  it  to  pain  you  with  salutary  remorse,  and  awaken 
you  to  a  tender  sensibiUty  of  your  danger,  this  intestine 
enemy  will  in  the  end  become  your  bosom  friend,  will 
support  you  under  every  calamity,  and  be  your  faithful 
companion  and  guardian  through  the  most  dangerous 
paths  of  life.  Therefore  now  submit  to  its  wholesome 
severities,  now  yield  to  its  chastisements.  Such  of  you 
as  have  submitted  to  its  authority,  and  obeyed  its  faithful 
admonitions,  find  it  your  best  friend  ;  and  you  may  bless 
the  day  in  which  you  complied  w^ith  its  demands,  though 
before  divine  grace  renewed  your  heart,  your  wills  were 
stubborn  and  reluctant  ;  and  you  might  say  with 
Ephraim, 

/  was  chastised  as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke  ; 
that  is,  "Asa  wild  young  ox,  unbroken  from  the  herd, 
is  unmanageable,  refuses  the  yoke,  becomes  outrageous 
at  the  whip  or  goad,  and  wearies  himself  in  ineffectual 
struggles  to  throw  ofi'the  burden  clapt  upon  him,  and  re- 
gain his  savage  liberty,  and  never  will  submit  until 
wearied  out,  and  unable  to  resist  any  longer  ;  so  has  my 
stubborn  heart,  unaccustomed  to  obey,  refused  the  yoke 
of  thy  law,  O  my  God,  and  struggled  v/ith  sullen  obsti- 
nacy under  thy  chastisements.  Instead  of  calmly  sub- 
mitting to  thy  rod,  and  immediately  reformiing  under 
correction,  instead  of  turning  to  thee,  and  flying  to  thy 
arms  to  avoid  the  falling  blow,  I  was  unyielding  and  out- 
rageous, like  a  wild  bull  in  a  net.  Isa.  li.  20.  I  wearied 
myself  in  desperate  struggles  to  free  myself  from  thy 
chastising  hand  ;  or  vainly  tried  to  harden  myself  to  bear 
it  with  obdurate  insensibility.  I  tried  to  break  the  rod 
of  conscience  that  I  might  no  more  groan  under  its 
lashes,  and  my  heart  reluctated  and  rebelled  against  the 
gracious  design  of  thy  correction,  which  was  to  bring 
me  back  to  thee  my  heavenly  Father.  But  now  I  am 
wearied  out,  now  I  am  sensible  I  must  submit,  or 
perish,  and  that  my  conscience  is  too  strong  for  me,  and 
must  prevail." 

You  see,  my  brethren,  the  obstinate  reluctance  of  an 
awakened  sinner  to  return  to  God.  Like  a  wild  young 
bullock,  he  would  range  at  large,  and  is  impatient  of  the 
yoke  of  the  law,  and  the  restraints  of  conscience.  He 
loves  his  sin  and  cannot  bear  to  part  with  it.     He  ha^ 


TO    MOURNING    TENITENTS.  SSf) 

no  relish  for  the  exercises  of  devotion  and  ascetic  morti- 
fication ;  and  therefore  will  not  submit  to  them.  The 
way  of  holiness  is  aisagreeablc  to  his  depraved  heart, 
and  he  will  not  turn  his  feet  to  it.  He  loves  to  be  stu- 
pidly easy  and  serene  in  mind,  and  cannot  bear  to  be 
checked  in  his  pursuit  of  business  or  pleasure  by  anx- 
ieties of  heart,  and  therefore  he  is  impatient  of  the 
honest  vrarnings  of  his  conscience,  and  uses  a  variety  of 
wretched  expedients  to  silence  its  clamorous  remon- 
strances. In  short,  he  will  do  anythino:,  he  will  turn  to 
anything  rather  than  turn  to  God.  If  his  conscience 
will  be  but  satisfied,  he  will  forsake  many  of  his  sins : 
he  will,  like  Herod,  Mark  vi.  20,  do  many  things,  and 
walk  in  the  whole  round  of  outward  duties.  All  this  he 
will  do,  if  his  conscience  Y\^ill  be  but  bribed  by  it.  But 
if  conscience  enlarges  its  demands,  and,  after  he  has  re- 
formed his  life,  requires  him  to  make  him  a  new 
heart,  requires  him  to  turn  not  only  from  the  out 
ward  practice  of  gross  vices,  but  from  the  love  of  all 
sin  ;  not  only  to  turn  to  the  observance  of  religious 
duties,  but  to  turn  to  the  Lord  with  all  his  heart,  and  sur- 
render himself  entirely  to  him,  and  make  it  the  main 
business  of  life  to  serve  him  ;  if  conscience,  I  say,  car- 
ries its  demands  thus  far,  he  cannot  bear  it,  he  struggles 
to  throw  off  the  yoke.  And  some  are  cursed  with  hor 
rid  success  in  the  attempt :  they  are  permitted  to  rest 
content  in  a  partial  reformation,  or  external  religion,  as 
sufficient,  and  so  go  down  to  the  grave  with  a  lie  in  their 
right  hand..  But  the  happy  soul,  on  whom  divine  grace 
is  determined  to  finish  its  work  in  spite  of  all  opposition, 
is  suffered  to  weary  itself  out  in  a  vain  resistance  of  the 
chastisements  of  conscience,  till  it  is  obliged  to  yield,  and 
submit  to  the  yoke.  And  then  with  Ephraim  it  will  cry, 
"  Turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned."  This  is  the 
mourning  sinner's  language,  when  convinced  that  he 
must  submit  and  turn  to  God,  and  in  the  mean  time  finds 
himself  utterly  unable  to  turn.  Many  essays  he  makes 
to  give  himself  to  the  Lord  ;  but  0  !  his  heart  starts  back 
and  shrinks  away  as  though  he  were  rushing  into  flames, 
when  he  is  but  flying  to  the  gracious  embraces  of  his 
Father.  He  strives,  and  strives  to  drag  it  along,  but  all 
in  vain.  And  what  shall  he  do  in  this  extremity,  but 
cry,  "  Lord,  turn  thou  me,  and  I  shall  be  turned  j  draw 


236  THE    DIVINE    BIERCY 

me,  and  I  shall  run  after  thee.  Work  in  me  to  will  and 
to  do,  and  then  I  shall  work  out  my  own  salvation." 
Lord,  though  I  am  sensible  of  the  rtfecessity  of  turning  to 
thee,  though  I  exert  my  feeble  strength  in  many  a  lan- 
guid effort,  to  come,  yet  I  cannot  so  much  as  creep  to- 
wards thee,  though  I  should  die  on  the  spot.  Not  only 
thy  word,  Jbut  my  own  experience  now  convinces  me 
that  I  cannot  come  unto  thee,  unless  thou  draw  me 
John  vi.  44.  Others  vainly  boast  of  their  imaginary 
power,  as  though,  when  they  set  themselves  about  it, 
they  could  perform  some  great  achievements.  Thus  I 
once  flattered  myself,  but  now,  when  I  am  most  capable 
of  judging,  that  is,  when  I  come  to  the  trial,  all  my  boasts 
are  humbled.  Here  I  lie,  a  helpless  creature,  unable  to 
go  to  the  physician,  unable  to  accept  of  pardon  and  life 
on  the  easy  terms  of  the  gospel,  and  unable  to  free  my- 
self from  the  bondage  of  sin  ;  and  thus  I  must  lie  for 
ever,  unless  that  God,  from  whom  I  have  revolted,  draws 
me  back  to  himself.  Turn  me,  O  thou  that  hast  the 
nearts  of  all  men  in  thy  hands,  and  canst  turn  them 
whithersoever  thou  pleasest,  turn  me  ;  and  then  weak, 
and  reluctant  as  I  am,  I  chail  be  turned  ;  this  backward 
heart  will  yield  to  the  almighty  attraction  of  thy  grace. 

"  Here  am  I  as  passive  clay  in  the  hand  of  the  potter*, 
incapable  to  fashion  myself  into  a  vessel  fit  for  thy 
house  ;  but  thou  canst  form  me  as  thou  pleasest.  This 
hard  and  stubborn  heart  will  be  ductile  and  pliable  to 
thine  irresistible  power."  Thus  you  see  the  awakened 
sinner  is  driven  to  earnest  prayer  in  his  exigence. 
Never  did  a  drowning  man  call  for  help,  or  a  condemned 
malefactor  plead  for  pardon  with  more  sincerity  and 
ardor.  If  the  sinner  had  neglected  prayer  all  his  life 
before  now,  he  flies  to  it  as  the  only  expedient  left,  or  if 
he  formerly  ran  it  over  in  a  careless  unthinking  manner, 
as  an  insignificant  form,  now  he  exerts  all  the  importu- 
nity of  his  soul ;  now  he  pj:ays  as  for  his  life,  and  cannot 
rest  till  his  desires  are  answered 

The  sinner  ventures  to  enforce  his  petition  by  plead- 
ing his  relation  to  God  ;  "  Turn  me, — for  thou  art  the 
Lord  my  God."  There  is  a  sense  in  which  a  sinner  in 
his  unregenerate  state  cannot  call  God  his  God;  that  is, 
he  cannot  claim  a  special  interest  in  him  as  his  portion, 
nor  cry  "  Abba,  Father,"  with  tho  spirit  of  adopcion,  as 


TO    MOURNING    TENITENTS.  237 

reconciled  to  God.  But  even  an  unregenerate  sinner 
rnay  call  him  my  God  in  other  senses  ;  he  is  his  God  by 
right,  that  is,  though  he  has  idolatrously  yielded  himself 
to  other  gods,  yet  by  right  he  should  have  acknowledged 
him  only.  He  is  his  God,  as  that  name  denotes  authori- 
ty and  power,  to  which  he  should  be  subject :  his  God, 
as  he  would  now  choose  him  to  be  his  God,  his  portion, 
and  his  all,  which  is  implied  in  turning  to  him  ;  he  is  his 
God  by  anticipation  and  hope,  as  upon  his  turning  to  him 
he  will  become  his  reconciled  God  in  covenant ;  and  he 
is  his  God  by  outward  profession  and  visible  relation.  The 
force  of  this  argument,  to  urge  his  petition  for  convert- 
ing grace,  may  be  viewed  in  various  lights. 

It  may  be  understood  thus  :  "  Turn  thou  me,  for  thou 
only,  who  art  the  Lord  of  the  universe,  and  hast  all  the 
creation  at  thy  control ;  thou  only,  who  art  my  God  and 
ruler,  and  in  whose  hand  my  heart  is,  art  able  to  turn  so 
obstinate  a  creature.  In  vain  do  I  seek  for  help  else- 
where. Not  all  the  means  upon  earth,  not  all  the  per- 
suasions, exhortations,  invitations,  and  terrors  that  can 
be  used  with  me,  can  turn  this  heart ;  it  is  a  work  becom- 
ing the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  it  is  thou  alone  canst 
efiect  it." 

Or  we  may  understand  the  plea  thus :  "  Turn  thou 
me,  and  I  shall  turn  to  thee  ;  to  thee  who  art  the  Lord 
my  God,  and  to  whom  I  am  under  the  most  sacred  obli- 
gations to  return.  I  would  resign  thine  own  right  to 
thee  ;  I  would  submit  to  thee  who  alone  has  a  just  claim 
to  me  as  thy  servant." 

Or  the  Avords  may  be  understood  as  an  abjuration  of 
all  the  idol-lusts  to  which  the  sinner  was  enslaved  before, 
"  I  will  turn  to  thee ;  for  to  whom  should  I  turn  but  to 
the  Lord  my  God  :  "  What  have  I  to  do  any  more  with 
idols  1"  Hosea  xiv.  8.  "  Why  should  I  any  longer  submit 
to  other  lords,  who  have  no  right  to  me  1  1  would  re- 
nounce them  all ;  I  would  throw  off  all  subjection  to 
them,  and  avouch  thee  alone  for  the  Lord  my  God." 
Thus  have  the  Jews  renounced  their  false  gods  upon  their 
return  from  Babylon. 

Or  we  may  understand  the  words  as  an  encouragement 
to  hope  for  converting  grace,  since  it  is  asked  from  a 
God  of  infinite  power  and  goodness.  "  Though  I  have 
most  grievously  offended,  and  had  I  done  the  thousandth 


238  THE    UiVliNE    MERCY 

part  so  muc'li  iigainst  my  fellow  creatures,  I  could  never 
expect  a  favorable  admission  into  their  presence  ;  yet  1 
dare  ask  so  great  a  favor  of  thee,  for  thou  art  God,  and 
not  man  :  thy  power  and  thy  grace  are  all  divine,  such 
as  become  a  God.  I  therefore  dare  to  hope  for  that  from 
thy  hands,  which  I  might  despair  of  from  all  the  universe 
of  beings  besides." 

Or  finally,  the  passage  may  be  looked  upon  as  a  plea 
drawn  from  the  sinner's  external  relation  to  God,  as  a 
member  of  his  visible  church,  and  as  dedicated  to  him. 
"  Turn  me,  and  I  will  turn  to  thee,  whose  name  I  bear, 
and  to  whom  I  have  been  early  devoted.  I  would  now 
of  my  own  choice  acknowledge  the  God  of  my  fathers, 
and  return  to  the  guide  of  my  youth.  And,  since  thou 
hast  honored  me  with  a  place  in  thy  visible  church,  I 
humbly  hope  thou  wilt  not  reject  me  now,  when  I  would 
sincerely  consecrate  myself  to  thee,  and  become  thy  serv- 
ant in  reality,  as  well  as  in  appearance."  In  this  sense 
the  plea  might  be  used  with  peculiar  propriety  by  the 
Jews,  who  had  been  nationally  adopted  as  the  peculiar 
people  of  God. 

In  whatever  sense  we  understand  the  words,  they  con- 
vey to  us  this  important  truth,  that  the  awakened  sinner 
is  obliged  to  take  all  his  encouragement  from  God,  and 
not  from  himself.  All  his  trust  is  in  the  divine  mercy, 
and  he  is  brought  to  a  happy  self-despair. 

Having  viewed  Ephraim  under  the  preparatory  work 
of  legal  conviction,  and  the  dawn  of  evangelical  repent 
ance,  let  us  view  him, 

II.  As  reflecting  upon  the  surprising  efficacy  of  grace 
he  had  sought,  and  which  was  bestowed  upon  him  in 
answer  to  his  prayer. 

We  left  him  just  now  crying,  Turn  thou  rae,  and! shall 
be  turned  y  here  we  find  him  actually  turned.  Surely  after 
that  I  was  turned^  I  repented.  When  the  Lord  exerts  his 
power  to  subdue  the  stubbornness  of  the  sinner,  and 
sweetly  to  allure  him  to  himself,  then  the  sinner  repents; 
then  his  heart  dissolves  in  ingenuous  disinterested  re- 
lentings.  His  sorrow  and  concern  before  conversion  are 
forced  and  mercenary ;  they  are  occasioned  only  by  a 
selfish  fear  of  punishment,  and  he  would  willingly  get 
rid  of  them,  but  now  his  grief  is  free  and  spontaneous  , 
it  flows  from  his  heart  as  freely  as  streams  from  a  foun 


TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS.  239 

tain  ;  and  he  takes  pleasure  in  tender  relcntiugs  before 
the  Lord  for  his  sin ;  he  delights  to  be  hr.mble,  and  to 
feel  his  heart  dissolve  within  him.  A  heart  of  flesh,  soft 
and  susceptive  of  impression,  is  his  choice,  and  a  stony 
insensible  heart  a  great  burden  ;  the  more  penitent  tiio 
jnore  happy,  and  the  more  senseless,  the  more  miserable 
he  finds  himself.  Now  also  his  heart  is  actuated  with  a 
generous  concern  for  the  glory  of  God  ;  and  he  sees  the 
horrid  evil  of  sin  as  contrary  to  the  holiness  of  God,  and 
an  ungrateful  requital  of  his  uninterrupted  beneficence. 

We  learn  from  this  passage,  that  the  true  penitent  is 
sensible  of  a  mighty  turn  in  his  temper  and  inclinations. 
Surely  after  that  I  was  turned,  I  repented.  His  whole  soul 
is  turned  from  what  he  formerly  delighted  in,  and  turned 
to  what  he  had  no  relish  for  before.  Particularly  his 
thoughts,  his  will,  and  afiections  are  turned  to  God  j 
there  is  a  heavenly  bias  communicated  to  them  which 
draws  them  to  holiness,  like  the  law  of  gravitation  in  the 
material  world.  There  is  indeed  a  new  turn  given  to 
his  outward  practice  ;  the  world  may  in  some  measure 
see  that  he  is  a  new  man  ;  but  this  is  not  ail  ]  the  first 
spring  that  turns  all  the  wheels  of  the  soul  and  actions 
of  life  is  the  heart,  and  this  is  first  set  right.  The  change 
within  is  as  evident  as  that  without,  could  our  eyes  pe- 
netrate the  heart.  In  short.  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he 
is  throughout  a  new  creature  ;  old  things  are  passed  away, 
and  behold,  all  things  are  become  7iew. 

Apply  this  touchstone  to  your  hearts,  my  brethren, 
and  see  if  they  will  stand  the  test. 

The  penitent  proceeds,  After  that  I  was  instructed,  I 
smote  upon  my  thigh.  The  same  grace  that  turns  him 
does  also  instruct  him  ;  nay,  it  is  by  discovering  to  him 
the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face 
of  Jesus  Christ,  that  it  draws  him.  He  is  brought  out 
of  darkness  into  marvellous  and  astonishing  light,  that 
surprises  him  with  new  discoveries  of  things  :  he  is  in- 
structed particularly,  as  to  the  necessity  of  turning  to 
God,  as  to  the  horrid  ingratitude,  vileness,  and  deformity 
of  sin,  and  as  to  his  folly  and  wickedness  in  continuing 
so  long  alienated  from  God.  By  the  way,  have  you  ever 
been  let  into  these  secrets,  my  hearers  %  And  when  in- 
structed in  these, 

"  He   smites  upon  his  thigh."     This  gesture  denotes 


240  THE    DIVINE    MERCY 

consternation  and  amazement ;  and  nature  directs  us 
thus  to  express  these  passions.  Ezekiel  is  enjoined  to 
use  this  gesture  as  a  prophetic  action,  signifying  the 
horror  and  astonishment  of  his  mind.  Ezekiel  xxi.  12. 
This  action,  therefore,  of  the  penitent,  intimates  what 
consternation  and  amazement  he  is  cast  into,  when  these 
new  discoveries  flash  upon  his  soul.  He  stands  amazed 
at  himseJf.  He  is  struck  with  horror  to  think  what  an 
ungrateful,  ignorant,  stupid  wretch  he  has  been  all  his 
life  till  this  happy  moment.  "  Alas !  what  have  I  been 
doing  %  abusing  all  my  days  in  ruining  my  own  soul,  and 
dishonoring  the  God  of  all  my  mercies !  contentedly 
estranged  from  him,  and  not  seeking  to  return  !  Where 
were  my  eyes,  that  I  never  before  saw  the  horrid 
evil  of  my  conduct  and  the  shocking  deformity  of 
sin,  v/hich  now  opens  to  me  in  all  its  hideous  colors  ! 
Amazing !  that  divine  vengeance  has  not  broken  out 
upon  me  before  now  1  Can  it  be  that  I  am  yet  alive  !  in 
the  land  of  hope  too!  yea,  alive,  an  humble  pardoned 
penitent !  Let  heaven  and  earth  wonder  at  this,  for 
surely  the  sun  never  shone  upon  a  wretch  so  undesrerv- 
ing !  so  great  a  monument  of  mercy !" 

The  pardoned  penitent  proceeds, — /  was  ashamed^  yea, 
e.ven  confounded^  because  I  did  bear  the  reproach  of  my 
youth.  We  are  ashamed  when  we  are  caught  ii  a  mean, 
base  and  scandalous  action ,  we  blush,  and  are  confound- 
ed, and  know  not  where  to  look,  or  what  to  say.  Thus 
the  penitent  is  heartily  ashamed  of  himself,  when  he  re- 
flects upon  the  sordid  dispositions  he  has  indulged,  and 
the  base  and  scandalous  actions  he  has  committed.  He 
blushes  at  his  own  inspection  ;  he  is  confounded  at  his 
OAvn  tribunal.  He  appears  to  himself,  a  mean,  base,  con- 
temptible wretch  ;  and,  though  the  world  may  honor 
him,  he  loaths  himself,  as  viler  than  the  earth  he  treads 
on ;  and  is  secretly  ashamed  to  see  the  face  of  man. 
And  how  then  shall  he  appear  before  God  1  how  shall  he 
hold  up  his  face  in  the  presence  of  his  injured  Father  1 
He  comes  to  him  ashamed,  and  covering  his  head.  He 
knows  not  what  to  say  to  him  ;  he  knows  not  how  to 
look  him  in  the  face,  but  he  falls  dowTi  abashed  and  con- 
founded at  his  feet.  Thus  was  penitent  Ezra  ashamed 
before  God.  He  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  lifted  up  his 
hands  (his  eyes,  like  the  publican,  he  durst  not  lift  up) 


TO  MO[;R^•I.^G  pemtExN-ts.  24-1 

unto  tho  'jcaveiis,  and  he  says,  0  my  God^  I  am  ashamed,, 
and  blush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee^  my  God!  for  our  ini- 
quities are  increased  over  our  heads,  a?id  our  trespasses  are 
groum  up  unto  the  heavens. — And  now,  0  our  God,  what 
shall  we  say  after  this  /  for  we  have  broken  thy  command- 
ments. Ezra  ix.  5-10.  Thus  it  was  foretold  concerning 
the  repenting  Jews.  Then  thou  shalt  remember  thy  evil 
ways  and  be  ashamed.  Thou  shalt  be  confounded  and  never 
open  thy  mouth  any  more,  because  of  thy  shame.  Ezek.  xvi. 
61-63.  There  is  good  reason  for  this  conscious  shame, 
and  therefore  it  is  enjoined  as  a  duty :  J^ot  for  your 
maizes  do  I  this  unto  you,  saith  the  Lord  God,  be  it  known 
unto  you  :  he  ashamed  and  confou?idedfor  your  own  ways,  0 
house  of  Israel.  Ezek.  xxxvi.  32. 

And  what  is  the  cause  of  this  shanne  in  the  mourning 
penitent  1  O,  says  he,  it  is  because  I  bear  the  reproach  of 
my  youth.  "  I  carry  upon  me  (as  the  original  word  sig- 
nifies) the  brand  of  infamy.  My  youth,  alas  !  was  spent 
in  a  thoughtless  neglect  of  God  and  the  dutic^s  I  owed 
him ;  my  vigorous  days  were  wasted  in  sensiuv  <x.trava- 
gances,  and  gratifying  my  criminal  inclina.  ...s.  My 
prime  of  life,  which  should  have  been  sacred  to  the  au- 
thor of  my  existence,  was  spent  in  rebellion  against  him. 
Alas  !  my  first  thoughts,  my  virgin  love,  did  not  aspire 
to  him  ;  nor  did  my  young  desires,  as  soon  as  fledged, 
wing  their  flight  to  heaven.  In  short,  the  temper  of  my 
heart,  and  my  course  of  my  life,  from  the  first  exercises 
of  reason  to  this  happy  hour  of  my  conversion,  were  a 
disgrace  to  my  rational  nature  ;  I  have  degraded  myself 
beneath  the  beasts  that  perish."  Behold,  I  am  vile  ;  I 
'oath  and  abhor  myself  for  all  my  filthiness  and  abomina- 
tions. Ezek.  xxxvi.  31.  "And  how  amazing  the  grace 
of  God  to  honor  so  base  a  wretch  with  a  place  among  the 
children  of  his  love  !" 

Thus  I  have  delineated  the  heart  of  penitent  Ephra- 
im ;  and  let  me  ask  you,  my  brethren,  is  this  your 
picture  1  Have  you  ever  felt  such  ingenuous  relent- 
ings,  such  just  consternation,  such  holy  shame  and 
confusion  1  There  can  be  no  transition  from  nature  to 
grace,  without  previous  concern,  &;c.  You  all  bear  the 
reproach  of  that  youth,  you  have  all  spent  some  unhap- 
py days  in  the  scandalous  ways  of  sin,  and  your  con- 
sciences still  bear  the  brand  of  infamy.  And  have  you 
21 


242  THE    DIVIDE    MERCY 

ever  been  made  deeply  sensible  of  it'l  Has  God  ever 
heard  you  bemoaning  vourselves  thus  in  some  mournful 
solitude,  "  Thou  hast  chastised  me,  and  I  was  chastised, 
as  a  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke."  Is  there  any 
such  mourner  here  this  day  \  then  listen  to  the  gracious 
voice  of  your  heavenly  Father,  while, 

III.  I  am  illustrating  the  last,  the  sweetest  part  of  the 
text,  which  expresses  the  tender  compassion  of  God 
towards  mourning  penitents. 

While  they  are  bemoaning  their  case,  and  conscious 
that  they  do  not  deserve  one  look  of  love  from  God,  he 
is  represented  as  attentively  listening  to  catch  the  first 
penitential  groan  that  breaks  from  their  hearts.  Ephraim, 
in  the  depth  of  his  despondency,  probably  did  hardly 
hope  that  God  took  any  notice  of  his  secret  sorrows, 
which  he  suppressed  as  much  as  possible  from  the  public 
view  :  but  God  heard  him,  God  was  watching  to  hear  the 
first  mournful  cry  ;  and  he  repeats  all  his  complaints,  to 
let  him  know  (after  the  manner  of  men)  what  particular 
notice  he  had  taken  of  them.  "  /  have  surely  heard.,  or 
hearing  I  have  heard  :"  that  is,  "  I  have  attentively  heard 
Ephraim  bemoaning  himself  thus." 

What  strong  consolation  may  this  give  to  desponding 
mourners,  Avho  think  themselves  neglected  by  that  God 
to  whom  they  are  pouring  out  their  weeping  supplica- 
tions !  He  hears  your  secret  groans,  he  courts  your  sighs, 
and  puts  your  tears  into  his  bottle.  His  eyes  penetrate 
all  the  secrets  of  your  heart,  and  he  observes  all  their 
feeble  struggles  to  turn  to  himself;  and  he  beholds  you 
not  as  an  unconcerned  spectator,  but  with  all  the  tender 
emotions  of  fatherly  compassion:  for, 

While  he  is  listening  to  Ephraim's  mournful  com- 
plaints, he  abruptly  breaks  in  upon  him,  and  sweetly 
surprises  him  with  the  warmest  declarations  of  pitj?-  and 
grace.  "  Is  this  Ephraim,  my  dear  son,  whose  mourn- 
ing voice  I  hear ;  Is  this  my  pleasant  child,  or  (as  it 
might  be  rendered)  the  child  of  my  delights,  who  thus 
wounds  my  ear  with  his  heart-rending  groans  V  What 
strange  language  this  to  an  ungrateful,  unyielding  rebel, 
that  continued  obstinate  till  he  was  wearied  out ;  that 
would  not  turn  till  dawn  ;  that  deserved  to  fall  a  victim 
to  justice  !  This  is  the  language  of  compassion  all  di- 
vine, of  Grace  that  becomes  a  God. 


TO    .niOUKMxNG    PEMTEA'TS.  ^  243 

This  passage  contains  a  most  encouragirig-  truth,  that^ 
nowever  vile  and  abandoned  a  sinner  has  been,  yet,  upon 
his  repentance,  he  becomes  God's  dear  son,  his  favorite 
child.  He  will,  from  that  moment,  regard  him,  provide 
for  him,  protect  him,  and  bring  him  to  his  heavenly  in- 
heritance, as  his  son  and  heir;  for  "  Neither  death, 
nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers,  nor 
things  present,  nor  things  to  come,"  &c.  Rom.  viii.  38, 
&:c.  "  shall  separate  him  from  his  father's  love  ;  but  he 
shall  inherit  all  things."  Rev.  xxi.  7.  Yea,  all  things 
are  his  already  in  title,  and  he  shall  he  made  "  greater 
than  the  kings  of  the  earth  ;"  he  shall  be  made  such  as 
becomes  so  dignified  a  relation  as  that  of  a  Son  to  the 
King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords. 

And  is  not  this  magnet  sufficient  to  attract  all  this  as- 
sembly to  their  Father's  house  1  Can  you  resist  the  al 
mighty  energy  of  such  compassion  1  Return,  ye  perish- 
ing prodigals  !  Return  ;  though  you  have  si?ined  against 
Heaven^  and  before  your  Father^  and  are  no  more  worthy  to 
be  called  his  so?is,  yet  return,  and  you  shall  be  made  his 
dear  sons,  his  pleasant  children. 

Are  none  of  you  in  need  of  such  strong  consolation 
as  this  \  Do  you  want  encouragement  to  return,  and 
are  you  ready  to  spring  up  and  run  to  your  father's  arms, 
upon  the  first  assurance  of  acceptance  1  If  this  be  what 
you  want,  you  have  an  abundance  for  your  supply.  Are 
all  your  souls  then  in  motion  to  return  1  Does  that  eye 
which  darts  through  the  whole  creation  at  once,  now  be- 
hold your  hearts  moving  towards  God  1  Or  am  I  wast- 
ing these  gracious  encouragements  upon  stupid  crea- 
tures, void  of  sensation,  that  do  not  care  for  them,  or 
that  are  so  conceited  of  their  oa\ti  worth,  as  not  to  need 
them  1  If  so,  I  retract  these  consolations,  with  respect 
to  you,  and  shall  presently  tell  you  your  doom.  But  let 
us  farther  pursue  these  meking  strains  of  paternal  pity. 

"  For  since  I  spake  against  him,  I  do  earnestly  remem- 
ber him  still."  Many  and  dreadful  were  the  threatenings 
denounced  against  the  sinner,  while  impenitent ;  and, 
had  he  continued  impenitent,  they  would  certainly  have 
been  executed  upon  him. — But  the  primary  and  immedi- 
ate design  of  the  threatenings  are  to  make  men  happy, 
and  not  to  make  them  miserable ;  they  are  designed  to 
deter  them  from  disobedience,  which  is  naturally  pro- 


1J44  THE    DlVkNE    MEKCY 

ductive  of  misery,  or  to  reclaim  them  from  it,  which  is 
but  to  restrain  them  in  tlieir  career  to  ruin.  And  conse- 
quently these  threatenings  proceed  from  love  as  well  as 
the  promises  of  our  God,  from  love  to  the  person,  though 
from  hatred  to  sin.  So  the  same  love  which  prompts  a 
parent  to  promise  a  reward  to  his  son  for  obedience,  will 
prompt  liim  also  to  threaten  him,  if  he  takes  some  dan- 
gerous weapon  to  play  with  :  or,  to  choose  a  more  per- 
tinent illustration,  for  God  is  the  moral  ruler  as  well  as 
the  father  of  the  rational  world  ;  the  same  regard  to  the 
public  weal,  which  induces  a  lawgiver  to  annex  a  reward 
to  obedience,  Aviil  also  prompt  him  to  add  penalties  to  his 
law  to  deter  from  disobedience  ;  and  his  immediate  de- 
sign is  not  to  make  any  of  his  subjects  miserable,  but  to 
keep  them  from  making  themselves  and  others  miserable 
by  disobedience  ;  though  when  the  threatening  is  once 
denounced,  it  is  necessary  it  should  be  executed,  to  vin- 
dicate the  veracity  of  the  lawgiver,  and  secure  his  gov- 
ernment from  insult  and  contempt.  Thus  when  the  pri- 
mary end  of  the  divine  threatenings,  namely,  the  deter- 
ring and  reclaiming  men  from  disobedience,  is  not  ob- 
tained, then  it  becomes  necessary  that  they  should  be 
executed  upon  the  impenitent  in  all  their  dreadful  ex- 
tent ;  bat  when  the  sinner  is  brought  to  repentance,  and 
to  submit  to  the  divine  government,  then  all  these  threat- 
enings are  repealed,  and  they  shall  not  hurt  one  hair  of 
his  head.  And  the  sinner  himself  will  acknowledge  that 
these  threatenings  proved  necessary  mercies  to  him, 
and  that  the  denunciation  of  everlasting  punishment  was 
one  means  of  bringing  him  to  everlasting  happiness,  and 
that  divine  vengeance  in  this  sense  conspired  with  divine 
grace  to  save  him. 

Consider  this,  ye  desponding  penitents,  and  allay  your 
terrors.  That  God,  who  has  written  such  bitter  things 
against  you  in  his  word,  earnestly  and  affectionately  re- 
members you  still,  and  it  was  with  a  kind  intent  to  you 
that  he  thundered  out  these  terrors  at  which  you  trem* 
ble.  These  acids,  this  bitter  physic,  were  necessary  for 
your  recovery.  These  coals  of  fire  were  necessary  to 
awaken  you  out  of  your  lethargy.  Therefore  read  the 
love  of  your  Father,  even  in  these  solemn  warnings.  He 
affectionately  remembers  you  still  j  he  cannot  put  you 
out  of  his  thoughts. 


TO    MOURNING    PENITENTS  245 

Therefore  my  bowels  (adds  the  all-gracious  Jehovah)  are 
troubled  for  hivi.  Astonishing  beyond  conception  !  how 
can  we  bear  up  under  such  words  as  these  \  Surely  they 
must  break  our  hearts,  and  overwhehn  our  spirits ! 
Here  is  the  great  God,  who  has  millions  of  superior  be- 
ings to  serve  him,  and  who  is  absolutely  independent 
upon  them  all,  troubled,  his  very  bowels  troubled,  for  a 
rebellious,  useless,  trifling  worm !  Be  astonished  at  this, 
ye  angels  of  light,  who  are  the  witnesses  of  such  amaz 
ing,  such  unbounded  compassion  ;  and  wonder  at  it,  O 
ye  sons  of  men,  who  are  more  intimately  concerned 
in  it,  stand  and  adore,  as  it  were,  in  statues  of  admira- 
tion !  It  is  true  these  words  are  not  to  be  taken  literal- 
ly, as  though  the  Deity  were  capable  of  sorrow,  or  any 
of  the  human  passions :  but  he  here  condescends  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  language  of  mortals,  and  to  borrow 
such  images  as  will  convey  to  us  the  most  lively  ideas 
of  his  grace  and  tenderness  to  mourning  penitents  ;  and 
no  image  can  answer  this  end  better  than  that  of  a  fa- 
ther, Avhose  bowels  are  yearning  over  his  mourning 
child,  prostrate  at  his  feet,  and  wlio,  with  eager  embra- 
ces, raises  him  up,  assuring  him  of  pardon  and  accept- 
ance. If  any  of  you  now  know  what  it  is  to  receive  a 
penitent  child  in  this  manner,  while  all  the  father  is 
tenderly  working  within  you,  you  may  form  some  affect- 
ing ideas  of  the  readiness  of  our  heavenly  Father  to  re- 
ceive returning  sinners  from  this  tender  illustration. 

The  Lord  concludes  tiiis  moving  speech  with  a  prom- 
ise that  includes  in  it  more  than  we  can  ask  or  think, 
sealed  with  his  ovv^n  sacred  name.  /  will  surely  have 
mercy,  or  (according  to  the  more  emphatical  original)  with 
mercy,  /  icill  have  mercy  upon  him,  saitk  the  Lord  :  this 
is,  I  will  show  abundant  mercy  to  him,  I  v/ill  give  him 
all  the  blessings  that  infinite  mercy  can  bestow;  and 
what  can  be  needed  more  1  This  promise  includes  par- 
don, acceptance,  sanctincation,  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
peace  of  conscience,  and  immortal  life  and  glory  in  the 
future  world.  O  sirs  !  what  a  God,  what  a  Father  is 
this  !  Who  is  a  God  like  unio  thee,  that  pardoneth  iniqui- 
ty, &c.  Micah  vii.  18. 

And  can  you,  ye  mourners  in  Zion,  can  you  fear  a  re- 
jection from  such  a  tender  Father  \     Can  you   dread  to 
venture    upon    such    abundant    mercies  %      Is   there  a 
21* 


:46 


THE    DIVINE    MERCY 


movirning  Ephraim  in  this  assembly  1  I  may  call  yoi7, 
f\s  God  did  Adam,  Ejphraim^  where  art  thou  ?  Let  the 
word  of  God  find  you  out,  and  force  a  little  encourage- 
ment upon  you  ;  your  heavenly  Father,  whose  angry 
hand  j^ou  fear,  is  listening  to  your  groans,  and  will  meas- 
ure you  out  a  mercy  for  every  groan,  a  blessing  for 
every  sigh,  a  drop,  a  draught  of  consolation,  for  every 
tear.  His  bowels  are  moving  over  you,  and  he  address- 
es you  in  such  language  as  this,  "  Is  this  my  dear  son  1 
is  this  my  pleasant  child  'V  &:c. 

And  as  to  you,  ye  hardy  impenitents,  ye  abandoned 
profligates,  ye  careless  formalists,  ye  almost  Christians, 
can  you  hear  these  things,  and  not  begin  now  to  relent '? 
Do  you  not  find  your  frozen  hearts  begin  to  thaw  within 
you  %  Can  you  resist  such  alluring  grace  1  Can  you 
bear  the  thoughts  of  continuing  enemies  to  so  good,  so  for- 
giving a  Father  1  Does  not  Ephraim's  petition  now  rise  to 
your  hearts.  Turn  thou  me^  and  I  shall  he  turned  '(  then  I 
congratulate  you  upon  this  happy  day ;  you  nre  this  day 
become  God's  dear  sons,  the  children  of  his  delights,  &c. 

Is  there  a  wretch  so  senseless,  so  wicked,  so  abandon- 
ed, as  to  refuse  to  retnrn  1  Where  art  thou,  hardy  rebel '( 
Stand  forth,  and  meet  the  terrors  of  thy  doom.  To  thee 
I  must  change  my  voice,  and,  instead  of  representing  the 
tender  compassions  of  a  father,  must  denounce  the  ter- 
rors of  an  angry  judge.  Thy  doom  is  declared  and  fixed 
by  the  same  lips  that  speak  to  penitents  in  such  encour- 
aging strains  ;  by  those  gracious  lips  that  never  uttered 
a  harsh  censure.  God  is  ajigry  with  thee  every  day.  Vs. 
vii.  11.  Except  thou  repentest^thou  shalt  surely  perish. 
Luke  xiii.  3.  The  example  of  Christ  authorizes  me  to 
repeat  it  again ;  "  Except  thou  repentest,  thou  shalt 
surely  perish,"  ver.  5.  "  The  God  that  made  thee  will 
destroy  thee  ;  and  he  that  formed  thee  will  show  thee 
no  favor."  Isa.  xxvi.  11.  "Thou  art  treasuring  up 
wrath  in  horrid  affluence  against  the  day  of  wrath." 
Rom.  ii  5.  "  God  is  jealous,  and  revengeth  ;  the  Lord 
revengcth,  and  is  furious  ;  the  Lord  will  take  vengeance 
on  his  adversaries  ;  and  he  reserveth  wrath  for  his  ene- 
mies. The  mountains  quake  at  him :  the  hills  melt  ; 
the  earth  is  burnt  at  his  presence  :  yea,  the  world,  and 
they  that  dwell  therein.  Who  can  stand  before  his  in- 
dignation 1     Who    can  endure  in  the  iier  ceness  of  his 


CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO    ALL    TRUj!    EELIEVEJIS.  247 

auger  1  His  fury  is  poured  out  like  fire,  and  the  rocks 
are  thrown  down  by  him."  Nahum  i.  2 — 6.  These 
flaming  thunderbolts,  sinners,  are  aimed  at  thy  heart,  and 
if  thou  canst  harden  thyself  against  their  terror,  let  me 
read  thee  thy  doom  before  we  part.  You  have  it  pro- 
nounced by  God  himself  in  Deuteronomy,  the  twenty 
ninth  chapter,  at  the  nineteenth  and  following  verses, 
"  If  it  come  to  pass  that  when  he  heareth  the  words  of 
this  curse,  that  he  bless  himself  in  his  heart,  saying,  1 
shall  have  peace,  though  I  w^alk  in  the  imagination  of  my 
heart — The  Lord  will  not  spare  him  :  but  then  the  an 
ger  of  the  Lord  and  his  jealousy  shall  smoke  against 
that  man,  all  the  curses  that  are  written  in  this  book 
shall  lie  upon  him,  and  the  Lord  shall  blot  out  his  name 
from  under  heaven  ;  and  the  Lord  shall  separate  him 
unto  evil  out  of  all  the  tribes  of  Israel,  according  to  all 
the  curses  of  the  covenant  that  are  written  in  this  book 
of  the  law."  And  now,  sinner,  if  thou  canst  return  home 
careless  and  senseless  with  this  heavy  curse  upon  thee, 
expect  not  a  word  of  comfort,  expect  no  blessing  till 
thou  art  made  truly  penitent  ;  for  "  how  shall  I  bless 
whom  God  has  not  blessed  1"  The  ministerial  blessing 
falls  upon  one  on  thy  right  hand,  and  one  on  thy  left,  but 
it  lights  not  upon  thee.  The  curse  is  thy  lot,  and  this 
must  thou  have  at  the  hand  of  God,  if  thou  continuest 
hardened  and  insolent  in  sin.  Thou  must  lie  down  in  sor- 
row. Isa.  i.  11.  Consider  this,  all  ye  that  forget  God,  lest 
he  tear  you  in  pieces,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver.    Ps.  i.  22. 


SERMON  XIV. 

CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO    ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS. 

1  Peter  ii.  7. — Unto  you  therefore  whi^h  believe,    He  is 
preci(Ju^.* 

Yes  ;  blessed   be    God ;  though   a   great  part  of  the 
creation  is  disaffected   to  Jesus  Christ;  though    fallen 

*  Or  preciousncss  in  iho  ab«U'act,  niirj. 


JJ48  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

spirits,  both  in  flesh  and  without  flesh,  both  upon  earth 
and  in  hell,  neglect  him  or  profess  themselves  open  ene- 
mies to  him,  yet  he  is  precious  ;  precious  not  only  in 
himself,  not  only  to  his  father,  not  only  to  the  choirs  of 
heaven,  who  behold  his  full  glory  without  a  veil,  but 
precious  to  some  even  in  our  guilty  world  j  precious  to 
a  sort  of  persons  of  our  sinful  race,  who  make  no  great 
figure  in  mortal  eyes,  who  have  no  idea  of  their  own 
goodness  j  who  are  mean,  unworthy  creatures,  in  their 
own  view,  and  who  are  generally  despicable  in  the  view 
of  others ;  I  mean  he  is  preciou^  to  all  true  believers. 
And  though  they  are  but  few  comparatively  in  our 
world;  though  there  are,  I  am  afraid,  but  few  additions 
made  to  them  from  among  us ;  yet,  blessed  be  God, 
there  are  some  believers  even  upon  our  guilty  globe ; 
and  I  doubt  not  but  I  am  now  speaking  to  some  such. 

My  believing  brethren,  (if  I  may  venture  to  claim 
kindred  with  you,)  I  am  now  entering  upon  a  design, 
which  I  know  you  have  much  at  heart :  and  that  is,  to 
make  the  blessed  Jesus  more  precious  to  you,  and  if  pos- 
sible, to  recommend  him  to  the  affections  of  the  crowd 
that  neglect  him.  You  know,  alas !  you  love  him  but 
little  ;  but  very  little,  compared  to  his  infinite  excellency 
and  your  obligations  to  him  ;  and  you  know  that  multi- 
tudes love  him  not  at  all.  Whatever  they  profess,  their 
practice  shows  that  their  carnal  minds  are  enmity 
against  him.  This  you  often  see,  and  the  sight  affects 
your  hearts.  It  deeply  affects  you  to  think  so  much  ex- 
cellency should  be  neglected  and  despised,  and  so  much 
love  meet  with  such  base  returns  of  ingratitude.  And 
you  cannot  but  pity  your  poor  fellow  sinners,  that  they 
are  so  blind  to  the  brightest  glory  and  their  own  highest 
interest,  and  that  they  should  perish,  through  wilful  ne- 
glect of  their  deliverer ;  perish,  as  it  were,  within  reach 
of  the  hand  stretched  out  to  save  them.  This  is  indeed 
a  very  affecting,  very  lamentable,  and  alas !  a  very  com- 
mon sight.  And  will  you  not  then  bid  me  God  speed 
this  day  in  my  attempt  to  recommend  this  precious, 
though  neglected,  Jesus  1  Will  you  not  contribute  your 
share  towards  my  success  in  so  pious  and  benevolent  a 
design  by  your  earnest  prayers  1  Now,  shall  not  the  in- 
terceding sigh  rise  to  heaven  from  every  heart,  and 
every  soul  be  cast  into  a  praying  nosture  \     I  shall  hope 


ALL  TRUE  BELIE VEKS.  249 

to  discharge  my  duty  with  more  comfort  and  advantage, 
if  you  afford  me  this  assistance.  And  surely  such  of 
you  cannot  deny  me  this  aid,  who  desire  that  Jesus  may 
become  still  more  precious  to  your  own  hearts,  and  that 
he  may  be  the  object  of  universal  love  from  all  the  sons 
of  men,  who  are  now  disaffected  to  him. 

To  you  that  believe^  he  is  piecious — He  1 — Who  X  Is  it 
mammon,  the  god  of  the  world  X  Is  it  pleasure,  or  honor  \ 
No  ;  r  one  of  these  is  the  darling  of  the  believing  heart. 
But  it  is  he  who  is  the  uppermost  in  every  pious  heart ; 
he,  who  is  first  in  the  thoughts  and  affections  ;  he  whom 
every  friend  of  his  must  know,  even  without  a  name  ;  if 
it  be  but  said  of  him,  he  is  precious,  this  is  enough  to 
distinguish  him  from  all  others.  "  If  it  be  he  the  apos- 
tle means,  may  every  believer  say,  who  is  most  precious 
to  my  soul,  then  I  can  easily  point  him  out,  though  with- 
out a  name.  It  must  be  Jesus,  for  0  !  it  is  he  that  is 
most  precious  to  me."  The  connection  also  of  the  text 
directs  us  to  the  same  person.  It  is  he  the  apostle 
means,  whom  he  had  just  described  as  a  living  stone, 
chosen  of  God,  and  precious  ;  the  chief  corner-stone,  the 
great  foundation  of  the  church,  that  spiritual  temple  of 
God,  so  stately  and  glorious,  and  reaching  from  earth  to 
heaven  ;  it  is  this  precious  stone,  this  heavenly  jewel, 
that  is  precious  to  believers. 

"  To  you  that  believe^  he  is  'precious^''  i.  e.  he  is  highly 
valued  by  you.  You  esteem  him  one  of  infinite  worth, 
and  he  has  the  highest  place  in  your  affections.  He  is 
dearer  to  your  hearts  than  all  other  persons  and  things. 
The  word  ''a"?  requires  a  still  stronger  translation :  "  To 
you  that  believe,  he  is  preciousness  ;"  preciousness  in  the 
abstract ;  all  preciousness,  and  nothing  but  precious- 
ness;  a  precious  stone  without  one  blemish.  Or  it  may 
be  translated  with  a  little  variation,  "  To  you  that  be- 
lieve, he  is  honor."  It  confers  the  highest  honor  upon 
you  to  be  related  to  him ;  and  you  esteem  it  your  high- 
est honor  to  sustain  that  relation.  Though  Jesus  and 
his  cross  are  names  of  reproach  in  the  unbelieving  world, 
you  glory  in  them,  and  they  reflect  a  real  glory  upon 
you.  Or,  "  To  you  that  believe,  there  is  honor."*" 
Honor  is  now  conferred  upon  you  in  your  being  built  as 

♦  The  pronoun  he,  is  not  in  the  original ;  but  the  passage  reads  thus : 
To  you  Who  believe,  honor. 


250  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

living  stones  in  the  temple  of  God  upon  this  precious 
foundation  ;  and  honor  is  reserved  for  you  in  heaven, 
where  the  crown  of  righteousness  awaits  you, 

"  To  you  which  believe,  he  is  precious  5"  that  is  to 
say,  the  value  of  this  precious  stone  is,  alas  !  unknown 
to  the  crowd.  It  is  so  far  from  being-  precious,  that  it  is 
a  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  offence  ;  a  stone 
disallowed  of  men,  (v.  4,)  rejected  even  by  the  builders, 
(v.  7,)  but  you  believers,  ye  happy  feWy  have  another 
estimate  of  it.  Faith  enables  you  to  see  the  glories  of 
the  blessed  Jesus  ;  and,  when  you  know  him  through 
this  medium,  you  cannot  but  love  him.  The  blind  world 
neglect  the  Lord  of  glory,  because  they  know  him  not : 
but  you  believers  know  him,  and  therefore  to  you  he  is 
precious.  Faith  presents  him  to  your  view  in  a  just 
light,  and  directs  you  to  form  a  proper  estimate  of  him. 
It  is  truly  lamentable  that  such  real  excellency  should 
be  despised  ;  but  so  it  will  be  w4th  the  world  till  they 
believe.  The  mere  speculative  recommendation  of  their 
reason,  the  prepossessions  of  education  in  his  favor, 
and  the  best  human  means,  are  not  sufficient  to  render 
Jesus  precious  to  them.  Nothing  but  saving  faith  can 
effect  this. 

To  you  therefore  which  believe  he  is  precious.  The  illa- 
tive particle,  therefore,  shows  this  passage  is  an  infer- 
ence from  what  went  before  ;  and  the  reasoning  seems 
to  be  this  :  "  This  stone  is  precious  to  God,  therefore  it 
is  precious  to  you  that  believe.  You  have  the  same  esti- 
mate of  Jesus  Christ  which  God  the  Father  has  ;  and  for 
that  very  reason  he  is  precious  to  you,  because  he  is 
precious  to  him."  That  this  is  the  connection  will  ap- 
pear, if  you  look  back  to  the  4th  and  6th  verses  ;  where 
you  find  Jesus  described  as  "  a  chief  corner-stone,  laid 
in  Zion,  elect  or  chosen,  and  precious  ;  disallowed,  in- 
deed, of  men,  but  chosen  of  God,  and  precious."  *  Men 
wickedly  disapprove  this  stone,  and  even  many  of  the 
professed  builders  of  his  church  reject  him.  This,  says 
the  apostle,  must  be  granted.  But  this  is  no  objection  to 
his  real  worth.  He  is  precious  to  God,  who  knows  him 
best,  and  who  is  a  perfect  judge  of  real  excellency  ;  and 

•  The  word  usod  in  ver^  and  6  is  a  compound,  rendered  "  precious"  in 
the  text.  And  this  is  an  inlimation  that  the  text  is  an  inference  from 
the  above  verses. 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  251 

for  that  very  reason  he  is  precious  to  you  that  believe. 
Faith  teaches  you  to  look  upon  persons  and  things  in 
the  same  light  in  which  God  views  them  ;  it  makes  your 
sentiments  conformed  to  his.  Christ  is  the  Father's  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  he  is  well  pleased  ;  and  he  is  your 
beloved  Savior,  in  whom  you  are  well  pleased. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  Jesus  should  be  precious  to  be- 
lievers, when  he  is  so  precious  in  himself,  and  in  his  of- 
fices, so  precious  to  the  angelic  armies,  and  so  precious 
to  his  Father  1 

1.  He  is  precious  in  himself.  He  is  Immanucl,  God- 
man  ;  and  consequently,  whatever  excellences  belong, 
either  to  the  divine  or  human  nature,  centre  in  him.  If 
wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  divine  or  human,  created 
or  uncreated,  can  render  him  worthy  of  the  highest  afiec- 
tion,  he  has  a  just  claim  to  it.  Whatever  excellences, 
natural  or  moral,  appear  in  any  part  of  the  vast  universe, 
they  are  but  faint  shadows  of  his  beauty  and  glory.  ^^11 
tki?igs  were  created  by  him  and  for  him  :  and  through  him 
all  things  C07isist :  Col.  i.  16,  17.  And  w^hatever  excel- 
lences are  in  the  effect  must  be  eminently  in  the  cause. 
You  do  not  Avonder  nor  censure,  when  you  see  men  de- 
lighted with  the  glories  of  the  sun,  and  the  various  lu- 
minaries of  the  sky  ;  you  do  not  Avonder  nor  blame  when 
they  take  pleasure  in  the  beautiful  prospects  of  nature, 
or  in  that  rich  variety  of  good  things  which  earth  and 
sea  and  every  element  furnishes  for  the  support  of  man, 
or  the  gratification  of  his  senses :  you  do  not  wonder 
and  blame,  when  they  are  struck  with  moral  beauty, 
when  you  see  them  admire  and  approve  wisdom,  bene- 
volence, justice,  veracity,  meekness  and  mercy :  you 
never  think  it  strnncfe,  much  less  censurable,  that  men 
should  love  these  things  and  count  them  precious  ;  and 
can  you  be  astonished,  can  you  ridicule  or  find  fault  that 
Jesus  is  precious  to  poor  believers  \  If  the  copy  be  so 
fair  and  lovely,  who  would  not  love  the  original,  that  has 
eyes  to  behold  it  1  Believers  see  so  much  of  the  worth 
of  Christ  as  is  sufficient  to  captivate  their  hearts,  and 
convince  them  of  their  guilt  in  loving  him  no  more  3  and 
the  clearer  their  views  are  of  him,  the  more  are  they 
mortified  at  the  criminal  defects  of  their  love !  for  O ! 
they  see  he  deserves  infinitely  more  ! 

2.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  precious  in  his  offices.    His  mo- 


252  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

diatorial  office  is  generally  subdivided  into  three  parts  ; 
namely,  that  of  a  prophet,  of  a  priest,  and  of  a  king  j  and 
how  precious  is  Christ  in  each  of  these  ! 

As  a  prophet,  how  sweet  are  his  instructions  to  a  be- 
wildered soul !  How  precious  the  words  of  his  lips, 
which  are  the  words  of  eternal  life !  How  delightful  to 
sit  and  hear  him  teach  the  way  of  duty  and  happiness, 
revealing  the  Father,  and  the  wonders  of  the  invisible 
state  !  How  transporting  to  hear  him  declare  upon  what 
terms  an  offended  God  may  be  reconciled  !  a  discovery 
beyond  the  searches  of  all  the  sages  and  philosophers 
of  the  heathen  world.  How  reviving  is  it  to  listen  to 
his  gracious  promises  and  invitations  ;  promises  and  in- 
vitations to  the  poor,  the  weary,  and  heavy  laden,  the 
broken-hearted,  and  even  to  the  chief  of  sinners  !  The 
word  of  Christ  has  been  the  treasure,  the  support,  and 
joy  of  believers  in  all  ages.  "  I  have  esteemed  the  words 
of  his  mouth,"  say  Job,  "  more  than  my  necessary  food." 
Job  xxiii.  12.  It  is  this  precious  word  the  psalmist  so 
often  and  so  highly  celebrates.  He  celebrates  it  as 
"  more  to  be  desired  than  gold  :  yea,  than  much  fine 
gold  ;  sweeter  also  than  honey,  and  the  honey-comb  :  " 
Psal.  xix.  10.  "  O  how  I  love  thy  law!  "  says  he  ;  "  it  is 
my  meditation  all  the  day :  "  Psal.  cxix.  97.  "  How 
sweet  are  thy  words  unto  taste  !  yea,  sweeter  than  honey 
to  my  mouth : "  ver.  103.  "  The  law  of  thy  mouth  is 
better  than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver  :  "  ver.  72.  "  Be- 
hold, I  have  longed  after  thy  precepts  :  "  ver.  40.  "  Thy 
statutes  have  been  my  song  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrim- 
age :  "  ver.  54.  "  In  my  affliction  thy  word  hath  quick- 
ened me  :  "  ver.  50.  "  Unless  thy  law  had  been  my  de- 
lights, I  should  then  have  perished  in  my  affliction  :"  ver. 
92.  This  is  the  language  of  David,  in  honor  of  this  di- 
vine Prophet,  near  three  thousand  years  ago,  when  Christ 
had  not  revealed  the  full  gospel  to  the  world,  but  only 
some  rays  of  it  shone  through  the  veil  of  the  Mosaic  dis- 
pensation. And  must  not  believers  now,  who  live  under 
the  more  complete  and  clear  instructions  of  this  great 
prophei,  entertain  the  same  sentiments  of  him  1  Yes,  to 
such  of  you  as  believe,  even  in  this  age,  he  is  most  pre- 
cious. 

But  this  external  objective  instruction  is  not  all  thai 
Christ  as  a  prophet  communicates  ;  and   indeed,  did  he 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  253 

do  no  m>ore  than  this,  it  would  answer  no  valuable  end. 
The  mind  of  man,  in  his  present  fallen  state,  like  a  dis- 
ordered eye,  is  incapable  of  perceiving  divine  things  in 
a  proper  light,  however  clearly  they  are  revealed ;  and 
therefore,  till  the  perceiving  faculty  be  rectified,  all  ex- 
ternal revelation  is  in  vain,  and  is  only  like  opening  a 
fair  prospect  to  a  blind  eye.  Hence  this  great  Prophet 
carries  his  instructions  farther,  not  only  by  proposing 
divine  things  in  a  clear  objective  light  by  his  word,  but 
inwardly  enlightening  the  mind,  and  enabling  it  to  per- 
ceive what  is  revealed  by  his  Spirit.  And  how  precious 
are  these  internal  subjective  instructions  !  How  sweet 
to  feel  a  disordered  dark  mind  opening  to  admit  the  shin- 
ings  of  heavenly  day ;  to  perceive  the  glory  of  God  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  beauties  of  holiness,  and  the 
majestic  wonders  of  the  eternal  world  !  Speak,  ye  that 
know  by  happy  experience,  and  tell  how  precious  Jesus 
appears  to  you,  when  by  his  own  blessed  Spirit  he  scat- 
ters the  cloud  that  benighted  your  understandings,  and 
lets  in  the  rays  of  his  glory  upon  your  admiring  souls ; 
when  he  opens  your  eyes  to  see  the  wonders  contained 
in  his  law,  and  the  glorious  mysteries  of  his  gospel. 
What  a  divine  glory  does  then  spread  upon  every  page 
of  the  sacred  volume  !  Then  it  indeed  appears  the  Book 
of  God,  God-like,  and  worthy  its  Author.  0  precious 
Jesus  !  let  us  all  this  day  feel  thine  enlightening  influ- 
ences, that  experience  may  teach  us  how  sweet  they 
are  !  Come,  great  Prophet !  come,  and  make  thine  own 
spirit  our  teacher,  and  then  we  shall  be  divinely  wise  ! 

Again,  the  Lord  Jesus  is  precious  to  believers  as  a 
great  High  Priest.  As  a  high  priest,  he  made  a  com- 
plete atonement  for  sin  by  his  propitiary  sacrifice  on  the 
cross  ;  and  he  still  makes  intercession  for  the  transgres- 
sors on  his  throne  in  heaven.  It  was  his  sacrifice  that 
satisfied  the  demands  of  the  law,  and  justice  of  God,  and 
rendered  him  reconcileable  to  the  guilty,  upon  terms 
consistent  with  his  honor  and  the  rights  of  his  govern- 
ment. It  was  by  virtue  of  this  sacrifice  that  he  procured 
pardon  of  sin,  the  favor  of  God,  freedom  from  hell,  and 
eternal  life  for  condemned  obnoxious  rebels.  And  such 
of  you  who  have  ever  felt  the  pangs  of  a  guilty  con- 
science, and  obtained  relief  from  Jesus  Christ,  you  can 
tell  how  precious  is  his  atoning  sacrifice.     How  did  it 


254  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

ease  your  self-tormenting  consciences,  and  heal  your 
broken  hearts !  How  did  it  change  the  frowns  of  an 
angry  God  into  smiles  of  love,  and  your  trembling  ap- 
prehensions of  vengeance  into  delightful  hopes  of  mer- 
cy !  How  precious  did  Jesus  appear,  with  a  pardon  in 
his  hand,  with  atoning  blood  gushing  from  his  opened 
veins,  and  making  his  cross,  as  it  were,  the  key  to  open 
the  gates  of  heaven  for  your  admission  !  Blessed  Sa- 
vior !  our  great  High  Priest,  thus  appear  to  us  in  all  thy 
pontifical  robes  dyed  in  thine  ow^n  blood,  and  cause  us 
al]  to  feel  the  efficacy  of  thy  propitiation  ! 

Let  us  next  turn  our  eyes  upwards,  and  view  this  great 
High  Priest  as  our  Intercessor  in  the  presence  of  God. 
There  he  appears  as  a  lamb  that  was  slain,  bearing  the 
memorials  of  his  sacrifice,  and  putting  the  Father  in  re- 
membrance of  the  blessings  purchased  for  his  people. 
There  he  urges  it  as  his  pleasure,  as  his  authoritative 
will,  that  these  blessings  should  in  due  time  be  conferred 
upon  those  for  whom  they  were  purchased.  In  this  au- 
thoritative manner  he  could  intercede  even  in  the  days 
of  his  humiliation  upon  earth,  because  of  the  Father's 
covenant-engagements  with  him,  the  accomplishment  of 
which  he  has  a  right  to  demand,  as  well  as  humbly  to 
petition:  "Father,  I  will  that  those  w^hom  thou  hast 
given  to  me,  may  be  with  me,"  &c.  John  xvii.  24.  Now 
how  precious  must  Christ  appear  in  the  character  of  In- 
tercessor !  That  the  friendless  sinner  should  have  an 
all-prevailing  advocate  in  the  court  of  heaven  to  under- 
take his  cause !  that  the  great  High  Priest  should  offer 
up  the  grateful  incense  of  his  own  merit,  with  the  pray- 
ers of  the  saints  !  that  he  should  add  the  sanction  of  his 
authoritative  will  to  the  humble  petitions  of  faith  !  that 
he  should  urge  the  claims  of  his  people,  as  his  own 
claims,  founded  upon  an  unchangeable  covenant  with  his 
Father,  of  which  he  has  fully  performed  the  conditions 
required  !  that  he  should  not  intercede  occasionally,  but 
ilways  appear  in  the  holy  of  holies  as  the  constant  ever- 
iving  Intercessor,  and  maintain  the  same  interest,  the 
same  importunity  at  all  times,  even  when  the  petitions 
of  his  people  languish  upon  their  lips  !  What  dehghtful 
reflections  are  these  !  and  how  warmly  may  they  recom- 
mend the  Lord  Jesus  to  the  hearts  of  believers  !  How 
just  is  the  apostle's  inference,   "  Having  an  High  Priest 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVEKS.  255 

over  the  house  of  God,  let  us  draw  near  with  a  true 
heart,  in  full  assurance  of  faith  ;  and  let  us  hold  fast  the 
profession  of  our  faith  without  wavering."  Heb.  x.  21 — 
23.  "  He  is  able  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  come 
unto  God  by  him  ;"  for  this  reason,  because  "  he  ever 
liveth  to  make  intercession  for  them."  Heb.  vii.  25. 
May  each  of  us  intrust  his  cause  to  this  all-prevailing 
Advocate,  and  we  shall  certainly  gain  it !  The  un- 
changeable promise  has  passed  his  lips,  "  that  whatso- 
ever we  ask  the  Father  in  faith,  and  in  his  name,  he  will 
give  it  us."  John  xvi.  23. 

Let  me  add,  the  kingly  office  of  Christ  is  precious  to 
believers.  As  King  he  gives  laws,  laws  perfectly  wise 
and  good,  and  enforced  with  the  most  important  sanc- 
tions, everlasting  rewards  and  punishments.  And  how 
delightful,  how  advantageous,  to  live  under  such  a  gov- 
ernment !  to  have  our  duty  discovered  with  so  much 
clearness  and  certainty,  which  frees  us  from  so  many 
painful  anxieties,  and  to  have  such  poAverful  motives  to 
obedience,whichhave  a  tendency  to  infuse  vigor  and  spirit 
into  our  endeavors  !  As  King,  he  appoints  ordinances  of 
worship.  And  how  sweet  to  converse  with  him  in  these 
ordinances,  and  to  be  freed  from  perplexity  about  that 
manner  of  worship  which  God  will  accept,  without  being 
exposed  to  that  question,  so  confounding  to  will-wor- 
shippers, Who  hath  required  this  at  your  hands  1  As 
King,  he  is  head  over  all  things  to  his  church,  and  ma- 
nages the  whole  creation,  as  is  most  subservient  to  her 
good.  The  various  ranks  of  creatures  in  heaven,  earth, 
and  hell,  are  subject  to  his  direction  and  control ;  and 
they  must  all  co-operate  for  the  good  of  his  people.  He 
reclaims,  confounds,  subdues,  or  destroys  their  enemies, 
according  to  his  pleasure.  And  how  precious  must  he 
be  in  this  august  character  to  the  feeble  helpless  believer  ! 
To  have  an  almighty  friend  sitting  at  the  helm  of  the 
universe,  with  the  supreme  management  of  all  things  in 
his  hands  ;  to  be  assured  that  even  the  most  injurious 
•enemy  can  do  the  believer  no  real  or  lasting  injury,  but 
shall  at  length  concur  to  work  his  greatest  good ;  and 
that,  come  what  will,  it  shall  go  well  with  him,  and  he 
shall  at  last  be  made  triumphant  over  all  difficulty  and 
opposition.  O !  what  transporting  considerations  are 
here  !     But  this  is  not  the  whole  exercise  of  the  royal 


256  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

power  of  Christ.  He  not  only  makes  laws  and  ordinances, 
and  restrains  the  enemies  of  his  people,  but  he  exercises 
his  power  inwardly  upon  their  hearts.  He  is  the  King 
of  souls ;  he  reigns  in  the  hearts  of  his  subjects  ;  and 
how  infinitely  dear  and  precious  is  he  in  this  view  !  To 
feel  him  subdue  the  rebehion  within,  sweetly  bending 
the  stubborn  heart  into  willing  obedience,  and  reducing 
every  thought  into  a  cheerful  captivity  to  himself,  writ- 
ing his  law  upon  the  heart,  making  the  dispositions  of  his 
subjects  a  transcript  of  his  will,  corresponding  to  it,  like 
wax  to  the  seal,  how  delightful  is  all  this  !  O  the  plea- 
sures of  humble  submission  !  How  pleasant  to  lie  as  sub- 
jects at  the  feet  of  this  mediatorial  King  without  arro- 
gating the  sovereignty  to  ourselves,  for  which  we  are 
utterly  insufficient !  Blessed  Jesus  !  thus  reign  in  oui; 
hearts  !  thus  subdue  the  nations  to  the  obedience  of 
faith  !  "  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  Mighty ! 
and  ride  prosperously,  attend  with  majesty,  truth,  meek- 
ness, and  righteousness."  Psalm  xlv.  3,  4.  "  Send  the 
rod  of  thy  strength  out  of  Sion  :  rule  thou  in  the  midst 
of  thine  enemies,"  Psalm  ex.  2,  rule  us,  and  subdue  the 
rebel  in  our  hearts. 

Thus  you  see  the  Lord  Jesus  is  precious  to  believers 
in  all  the  views  of  his  mediatorial  office.  But  he  is  not 
precious  to  them  alone  :  he  is  beloved  as  far  as  known, 
and  the  more  known  the  more  beloved  :  which  leads  me 
to  add, 

3.     He  is  precious  to  all  the  angels  of  heaven. 

St.  Peter  tells  us  that  the  things  now  reported  to  us. 
by  the  gospel  are  things  which  the  angels  desire  to  look  in- 
to^ 1  Pet.  i.  12.  Jesus  is  the  wonder  of  angels  now  in 
heaven;  and  he  was  so  even  when  he  appeared  in  the 
form  of  a  servant  upon  earth.  St.  Paul  mentions  it  as  one 
part  of  the  great  mystery  of  godliness,  that  God  ma7ii- 
j'ested  in  the  flesh  was  seen  of  angels.  1  Tim.  iii.  16.  An- 
gels saw  him,  and  admired  and  loved  him  in  the  various 
stages  of  his  life,  from  his  birth  to  his  return  to  his  na- 
tive heaven.  Hear  the  manner  in  which  angels  celebrat- 
ed his  entrance  into  our  world.  One  of  them  spread  his 
wings  and  flew  with  joyful  haste  to  a  company  of  poor 
shepherds  that  kept  their  midnight  watches  in  the  field, 
and  abruptly  tells  the  news,  of  which  his  heart  was  full : 
"  Behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy  which 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  257 

shall  be  to  all  people  ;  for  to  you  is  born  this  day,  in  the 
city  of  David,  a  Savior,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord :  and 
suddenly  there  Avas  with  the  angel  a  multitude  of  the  hea- 
venly host."  Crowds  of  angels  left  their  stations  in  the 
celestial  court  in  that  memorable  hour,  and  hovered  over 
the  place  where  their  incarnate  God  lay  in  a  manger : 
Jesus,  their  dprling,  was  gone  down  to  earth,  and  they 
must  follow  him  ;  for  who  would  not  be  where  Jesus  is  1 
Men,  ungrateful  men,  were  silent  upon  that  occasion,  but 
angers  tuned  their  song  of  praise.  The  astonished  shep- 
herds heard  them  sing,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest ; 
on  earth  peace:  good-will  to  men."  Luke  ii.  10 — 14 
When  he  bringeth  his  first-born  into  the  world,  the  Fa 
ther  saith,  Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him^  Heb.  i. 
6.  This  seems  to  intimate  that  all  the  angels  crowded 
round  the  manger,  where  the  Infant-God  lay,  and  paid 
him  their  humble  worship.  We  are  told,  that  when  the 
devil  had  finished  his  long  process  of  temptations,  after 
forty  days,  and  had  left  him,  the  angels  came  and 
ministered  unto  him .  Matt.  iv.  IL  When  this  disagreeable 
companion  had  left  him,  his  old  attendants  were  fond  of 
renewing  their  service  to  him.  In  every  hour  of  difficul- 
ty they  were  ready  to  fly  to  his  aid.  He  was  seen  of 
angels,  in  his  hard  conflict,  in  the  garden  of  Gethse- 
mane  ;  and  one  of  them  "  appeared  unto  him  from  hea- 
ven, strengthening  him."  Luke  xxii.  43.  With  what 
wonder,  sympathy  and  readiness,  did  this  angelic  assist- 
ant raise  his  prostrate  Lord  from  the  cold  ground,  wipe 
off  his  bloody  sweat,  and  support  his  sinking  spirit  with 
divine  encouragements  !  But  0  !  ye  blessed  angels,  ye 
usual  spectators,  and  adorers  of  the  divine  glories  of  our 
Redeemer,  with  what  astonishment  and  horror  were  you 
struck,  when  you  saw  him  expire  on  the  cross ! 

"  Around  ihe  bloody  tree 
Ye  press'd  with  strong  desire, 
That  wondrous  sight  to  see, 
The  Lord  of  life  expire  ! 

And,  could  your  eyes 

Have  known  a  tear, 

Had  dropt  it  there 

In  sad  surprise."* 

Ye  also  hovered  round  his  tomb,  while  he  lay  in  the 

•  Doddridge. 
22* 


258  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

prison  of  the  grave.  The  weeping  women  and  his  other 
friends  found  you  stationed  there  in  their  early  impatient 
visits  to  the  sepulchre.  O  what  wonders  then  appeared 
to  your  astonished  minds  !  Could  you,  that  pry  so  deep 
into  the  secrets  of  heaven,  you  that  know  so  well  what 
divine  love  can  do,  could  you  have  thought  that  even 
divine  love  could  have  gone  so  far  1  could  have  laid  the 
Lord  of  glory  a  pale,  mangled,  senseless  corpse  in  the 
mansions  of  the  dead  1  Was  not  this  a  strange  surprise 
even  to  you  '(  And,  when  the  appointed  day  began  to 
dawn,  with  what  eager  and  joyful  haste  did  ye  roll  away 
the  stone,  and  set  open  the  prison  doors,  that  the  rising 
Conqueror  might  march  forth  ! 

"  And  when  arrayed  in  light, 
The  shining  conqueror  rode, 
Ye  hail'd  his  rapturous  flight 
Uu  to  the  throne  oTGod  ; 

And  wav'd  around 

Your  golden  wings, 

And  struck  your  strings 

Ol'sweetestsound.* 

When  he  ascended  on  high,  he  was  attended  "  with 
the  chariots  of  God,  v.hich  are  tweuty  thousand,  even 
thousands  of  angels."  Psalm  Ixviii.  17,  18.  And  now, 
when  he  is  returned  to  dwell  among  them,  Jesus  is  still 
the  darling  of  angels.  His  name  sounds  from  all  their 
harps,  and  his  love  is  the  subject  of  their  everlasting 
song.  St.  John  once  heard  them,  and  I  hope  we  shall 
ere  long  hear  them,  saying  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches, 
and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and 
blessing."  Rev.  v.  11,  12. — This  is  the  song  of  angels,  as 
well  as  of  the  redeemed  from  among  men  : 

"  Jesus  the  Lord,  their  harps  employs  ; 
Jesus,  my  love,  they  sing  ; 
Jesus,  tlie  name  of  both  our  joys, 
Sounds  sweet  from  every  string."! 

O  my  brethren,  could  we  see  what  is  doing  in  heaven 
at  this  instant,  how  would  it  surprise,  astonish,  and  con- 
found "usl     Do  you  think  the  name  of  Jesus  is  of  as  lit- 

•  An  excellent  hymn  of  Dr.  Doddridge's  on  1  Tim,  iii.  16. — Seen  of  Angels, 
t  Watts' Hor.  Lyric. 


^.LL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  259 

tie  importance  there  as  in  our  world  1  Do  you  think 
there  is  one  lukewarm  or  disaffected  heart  there  among 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  of  thousands  of  thou- 
sands 1  O  no  !  there  his  love  is  the  ruling  passion  of 
every  heart,  and  the  favorite  theme  of  every  song.  And 
is  he  so  precious  to  angels  1  to  angels,  who  are  less  in- 
terested in  him,  and  less  indebted  to  him  1  And  must  he 
not  be  precious  to  poor  believers  bought  with  his  blood, 
and  entitled  to  life  by  his  death  1  Yes,  you  that  believe 
have  an  angelic  spirit  in  this  respect ;  you  love  Jesus, 
though  unseen,  as  well  as  they  who  see  him  as  he  is, 
though  alas !  in  a  far  less  degree.  But  to  bring  his 
worth  to  the  highest  standard  of  all,  I  add, 

4.  He  is  infinitely  precious  to  his  Father,  who  tho- 
roughly knows  him,  and  is  an  infallible  judge  of  real 
worth.  He  proclaimed  more  than  once  from  the  excel- 
lent glory,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased  ;  hear  ye  him.  Behold,"  says  he,  "  my  servant 
whom  I  uphold  ;  mine  elect,  in  whom  my  soul  deiight- 
eth."  Isa.  xlii.  1.  He  is  called  by  the  names  of  the  ten- 
derest  endearment  ;  his  Son,  his  own  Son,  his  dear  Son, 
the  Son  of  his  love.  He  is  a  stone,  disallowed  indeed 
of  men ;  if  their  approbation  were  the  true  standard  of 
merit,  he  must  be  looked  upon  as  a  very  worthless,  insig 
nificant  being,  unworthy  of  their  thou^-hts  and  affections 
But  let  men  form  what  estimate  of  liim  thej''  please,  he 
is  chosen  of  God.,  and  precious.  And  shall  not  the  love  of 
the  omniscient  God  have  weight  with  believers  to  love 
him  too  \  Yes,  the  apostle  expressly  draws  the  conse- 
quence ;  he  is  precious  to  God,  therefore  to  you  that  be- 
lieve, he  is  precious.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  even 
the  meanest  believer,  that  he  is  God-like.  He  is  a  par- 
taker of  the  divine  nature,  and  therefore  views  things,  in 
some  measure,  as  God  does ;  and  is  affected  towards 
them  as  God  is,  though  there  be  an  infinite  difference  as 
to  the  degree.  He  prevailingly  loves  what  God  loves, 
and  that  because  God  loves  it. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  what  think  you  of  Christ  1  Will 
you  not  think  of  him  as  believers  do  1  If  so,  he  will  be 
precious  to  your  hearts  above  all  things  for  the  future. 
Or  if  you  disregard  this  standard  of  excellence,  as  being 
but  the  estimate  of  fallible  creatures,  will  you  not  think 
of  him  as  angels  do  j  angels,  those  bright  intelligences, 


260  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

to  whom  he  reveals  his  unveiled  glories,  who  are  more 
capable  of  perceiving  and  judging  of  him,  and  who  there- 
fore must  know  him  better  than  you ;  angels,  who  have 
had  a  long  acquaintance  with  him  at  home,  if  I  may  so 
speak,  for  near  six  thousand  years,  as  God,  i.  e.  ever 
since  their  creation,  and  for  near  two  thousand  years  as 
God-man  1  Since  angels  then,  who  know  him  so  tho- 
roughly, love  him  so  highly,  certainly  you  may  safely 
venture  to  love  him  ;  you  might  safely  venture  to  love 
him  implicitly,  upon  their  word.  He  died  for  you,  which 
is  more  than  ever  he  did  for  them,  and  will  you  not  love 
him  after  all  this  love  1  It  is  not  the  mode  to  think  much 
of  him  in  our  world,  but  it  is  the  mode  in  heaven.  Yes, 
blessed  be  God,  if  he  be  despised  and  rejected  of  men, 
he  is  not  despised  and  rejected  of  angels.  Angels,  that 
know  him  best,  love  him  above  all,  and  as  far  as  their 
capacity  will  allow,  do  justice  to  his  merit ;  and  this  is 
a  very  comfortable  thought  to  a  heart  broken  with  a 
sense  of  the  neglect  and  contempt  he  meets  with  among 
men.  Blessed  Jesus  !  may  not  one  congregation  be  got 
together,  even  upon  our  guilty  earth,  that  shall  in  this 
respect  be  like  the  angels,  all  lovers  of  thee  '(  O  !  why 
should  this  be  impossible,  while  they  are  all  so  much  in 
need  of  thee,  all  so  much  obliged  to  thee,  and  thou  art 
so  lovely  in  thyself!  Why,  my  brethren,  should  not 
this  congregation  be  made  of  such,  and  such  only  as  are 
lovers  of  Jesus  1  Why  should  he  not  be  precious  to 
every  one  of  you,  rich  and  poor,  old  and  young,  white 
and  black  1  What  reason  can  any  one  of  you  give  why 
you  in  particular  should  neglect  him  l  I  am  sure  you 
can  give  none.  And  will  you,  without  any  reason,  dis- 
sent from  all  the  angels  in  heaven,  in  a  point  of  which 
they  must  be  the  most  competent  judges  ]  Will  you 
differ  from  them,  and  agree  in  your  sentiments  of  Christ 
with  the  ghosts  of  hell,  his  implacable,  but  conquered 
and  miserable  enemies  1 

If  all  this  has  no  weight  with  you,  let  me  ask  you 
farther,  will  you  not  agree  to  that  estimate  of  Jesus 
which  his  Father  has  of  him  1  Will  you  run  counter  to 
the  supreme  reason  1  Will  you  set  up  yourselves  as 
wiser  than  omniscience  1  How  must  Jehovah  resent  it 
to  see  a  worm  at  his  footstool   daring  to   despise  him. 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  261 

whom  he  loves  so  highly  !  O  let  him  be  precious  to  you, 
because  he  is  so  to  God,  who  knows  him  best. 

But  I  am  shocked  at  my  own  attempt.  O  precious  Je- 
sus !  are  matters  come  to  that  pass  in  our  world,  that  crea- 
tures bought  with  thy  blood,  creatures  that  owe  all  their 
hopes  to  thee  '(  should  stand  in  need  of  persuasions  to 
love  thee  !  What  horrors  attend  the  thought !  However, 
blessed  be  God,  there  are  some,  even  among  men,  to 
whom  he  is  precious.  This  world  is  not  entirely  peo- 
pled with  the  despisers  of  Christ.  To  as  many  of  you 
as  believe,  he  is  precious,  though  to  none  else. 

Would  you  know  the  reason  of  this  %  I  will  tell  you  : 
none  but  believers  have  eyes  to  see  his  glory,  none  but 
they  are  sensible  of  their  need  of  him,  and  none  but 
they  have  learned  from  experience  how  precious  he  is. 

1.  None  but  believers  have  eyes  to  see  the  glory  of 
Christ.  As  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is  entirely  from  re- 
velation, an  avowed  unbeliever  who  rejects  that  revela- 
tion, can  have  no  right  knowledge  of  him,  and  therefore 
must  be  entirely  indifferent  towards  him,  as  one  unknown, 
or  must  despise  and  abhor  him  as  an  enthusiast  or  impos- 
tor. But  one, who  is  not  an  unbeliever  in  profession  or  spe- 
culation, may  yet  be  destitute  of  that  faith  which  consti- 
tutes a  true  believer,  and  which  renders  Jesus  precious 
to  the  soul.  Even  devils  are  very  orthodox  in  specula- 
tion ;  devils  believe  and  tremble  ;  and  they  could  cry 
out,  "  What  have  we  to  do  with  thee,  Jesus  of  Nazareth  1 
We  know  thee,  who  thou  art  ;  even  the  holy  One  of 
God."  Mark  i.  24.  And  there  are  crowds  among  us 
who  believe,  after  a  fashion,  that  Christ  is  the  true  Mes- 
siah, who  yet  show  by  their  practices  that  they  neglect 
him  in  their  hearts,  and  are  not  believers  in  the  full  im- 
port of  the  character.  True  faith  includes  not  only  a  spe 
culative  knowledge  and  belief,  but  a  clear,  affecting,  real 
izing  view,  and  a  hearty  approbation  of  the  things  known 
and  believed  concerning  Jesus  Christ ;  and  such  a  view, 
such  an  approbation,  cannot  be  produced  by  any  human 
means,  but  only  by  the  enlightening  influence  of  the 
holy  Spirit  shining  into  the  heart.  Without  such  a  faith 
as  this,  the  mind  is  all  dark  and  blind  as  to  the  glory  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  it  can  see  no  beauty  in  him,  that  he  should 
be  desired.  Honorable  and  sublime  speculations  concern- 
ing him  may  hover  in  the  understanding,  and  the  tongue 


'Z6'Z  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO 

may  pronounce  many  pompous  panegyrics  in  his  praise, 

but  the  understanding  lias  no  realizing,  affecting  views 
of  his  excellency ;  nor  does  the  heart  delight  in  him  and 
love  him  as  infinitely  precious  and  lovely.  The  god  of 
this  world,  the  prince  of  darkness,  has  blinded  the  minds 
of  them  that  believe  not,  lest  the  light  of  the  glorious  gos- 
pel of  Christ  should  shine  into  them.  But  as  to  the  en- 
lightened believer,  God,  who  first  commanded  light  to 
shine  out  of  darkness,  has  shined  into  his  heart,  to  give 
him  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  divine  illumination 
pierces  the  cloud  that  obscured  his  understanding,  and 
enables  him  to  view  the  Lord  Jesus  in  a  strong  and 
striking  light ;  a  light  entirely  different  from  that  of  the 
crowd  around  him  ;  a  light,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to 
view  this  glorious  object  without  loving  him.  A  believer 
and  an  unbeliever  may  be  equally  orthodox  in  speculation, 
and  have  the  same  notions  in  theory  concerning  Jesus 
Christ,  and  yet  it  is  certainly  true,  that  their  views  of 
him  are  vastly  different.  Believers,  do  you  think  that, 
if  the  Christ-despising  multitude  around  you  had  the 
same  views  of  his  worth  and  preciousness  which  you 
have,  they  could  neglect  him,  as  they  do  1  It  is  impos- 
sible. You  could  once  neglect  him,  as  others  do  now  ; 
you  were  no  more  charmed  with  his  beauty  than  they. 
But  O !  when  you  were  brought  out  of  darkness  into 
God's  marvellous  light,  when  the  glories  of  the  neglect- 
ed Savior  broke  in  upon  your  astonished  minds,  then 
was  it  possible  for  you  to  withhold  your  love  from  him  1 
Were  not  your  hearts  captivated  with  delightful  violence  1 
You  could  no  more  resist.  Did  not  your  hearts  then  as 
naturally  and  freely  love  him,  whom  they  had  once  dis- 
gusted, as  ever  they  loved  a  dear  child  or  a  friend,  or  the 
sweetest  created  enjoyment  %  The  improving  your  rea- 
son into  faith  is  setting  the  disordered  eye  of  the  mind 
right,  that  it  may  be  able  to  see  this  subject :  and  when 
once  you  viewed  it  with  this  eye  of  reason  restored  and 
improved,  how  did  the  precious  stone  sparkle  before  you, 
and  charm  you  with  its  brilliancy  and  excellence  ?  Christ 
is  one  of  those  things  unseen  and  hoped  for,  of  which 
St.  Paul  says,  faith  is  the  substance  a?id  evidence.  Heb.  xi. 
1.  Faith  gives  Christ  a  present  subsistence  in  the  mind, 
not  as  a  majestic  phantom,  but  as  the  most  glorious  and 


ALL    TRUE    BELIEVERS.  263 

iin})ortant  reality  :  and  this  faith  is  a  clear,  affecting  de- 
monstration, or  conviction,  of  his  existence,  and  of  his 
beina:  in  reality  what  his  word  represents  him.  It  is  by 
such  a  faith,  that  is,  under  its  habitual  influence,  that  the 
believer  lives:  and  hence,  while  he  lives,  Jesus  is  still 
precious  to  him. 

2.  None  but  believers  are  properly  sensible  of  their 
need  of  Christ.  They  are  deeply  sensible  of  their  ignor- 
ance and  the  disorder  of  their  understanding,  and  there- 
fore they  are  sensible  of  their  want  of  both  the  external 
and  internal  instructions  of  this  divine  prophet.  But  as 
to  others,  they  are  puffed  up  with  intellectual  pride,  and 
apprehend  themselves  in  very  little  need  of  religious  in- 
structions ;  and  therefore  they  think  but  very  slightly  of 
him.  Believers  feel  themselves  guilty,  destitute  of  all 
righteousness,  and  incapable  of  making  atonement  for 
their  sins,  or  recommending  themselves  to  God,  and  there- 
fore the  satisfaction  and  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ 
are  most  precious  to  them,  and  they  rejoice  in  him 
as  their  all-prevailing  Intercessor.  But  as  to  the 
unbelieving  crowd,  they  have  no  such  mortifying 
thoughts  of  themselves  !  they  have  so  many  excuses 
to  make  for  their  sins,  that  they  bring  down  their 
guilt  to  a  very  trifling  thing,  hardly  worthy  of  divine  re- 
sentment :  and  they  magnify  their  good  works  to  such  a 
height,  that  they  imagine  they  will  nearly  balance  their 
bad,  and  procure  them  some  favor  at  least  from  God, 
and  therefore  the},'  must  look  upon  this  high  priest  as 
needless.  They  also  love  to  be  free  from  the  restraints 
of  religion,  and  to  have  the  command  of  themselves. 
They  would  usurp  the  power  of  self-government,  and 
make  their  own  pleasure  their  rule  ;  and  therefore  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  a  King,  is  so  far  from  being  pre- 
cious, that  he  is  very  unacceptable  to  such  obstinate, 
headstrong  rebels.  They  choose  to  have  no  lawgiver, 
but  their  own  wills ;  and  therefore  they  trample  upon 
his  laws,  and,  as  it  were,  form  insurrections  against  his 
government.  But  the  poor  believer,  sensible  of  his  in- 
capacity for  self-government,  loves  to  be  under  direc- 
tion, and  delights  to  feel  the  dependent,  submissive,  pli- 
ant spirit  of  a  subject.  He  counts  it  a  mercy  not  to 
have  the  management  of  himself,  and  feels  his  need  of 
this   mediatorial  King  to  rule  him.     He  hates  the  rebel 


264  CHRIST    PKKCIOL'S    TO 

within,  hates  every  insurrection  of  sin,  and  longs  to  have 
it  entirely  subdued,  and  every  thought,  every  motion  of 
his  soul  brought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
Christ ;  and  therefore  he  feels  the  need  of  his  royal 
power  to  make  an  entire  conquest  of  his  hostile  spirit. 
His  commands  are  not  uneasy  impositions,  but  most  ac- 
ceptable and  friendly  directions  to  him  ;  and  the  prohi- 
bitions of  his  law  are  not  painful  restraints,  but  a  kind 
of  pr.'vileges  in  his  esteem.  The  language  of  his  heart 
is,  "  Precious  Jesus !  be  thou  my  King.  I  love  to  live  in 
humble  subjection  to  thee.  I  would  voluntarily  submit 
myself  to  thy  control  and  direction.  Thy  will,  and  not 
mine,  be  done !  O  subdue  every  rebellious  principle 
within,  and  make  me  all  resignation  and  cheerful  obedi- 
ence to  thee  !"  To  such  a  soul  it  is  no  wonder  Jesus 
should  be  exceedingly  precious  :  but  0  how  diflerent  is 
this  spirit  from  that  which  generally  prevails  in  the 
world  I  Let  me  add  but  one  reason  more  why  Jesus  is 
precious  to  believers,  and  them  only  ;  namely, 

3.  None  but  believers  have  known  by  experience  how 
precious  he  is.  They,  and  only  they,  can  reflect  upon 
the  glorious  views  of  him,  which  themselves  have  had, 
to  captivate  their  hearts  for  ever  to  him.  They,  and 
only  they,  have  known  what  it  is  to  feel  a  bleeding  heart 
healed  by  his  gentle  hand ;  and  a  clamorous  languishing 
conscience  pacified  by  his  atoning  blood.  They,  and 
only  they,  know  by  experience  how  sweet  it  is  to  feel 
his  love  shed  abroad  in  their  hearts,  to  feel  a  heart,  rav- 
ished with  his  glory,  pant,  and  long,  and  breathe  after 
him,  and  exerting  the  various  acts  of  faith,  desire,  joy, 
and  hope  towards  him.  They,  and  only  they,  know  by 
experience  how  pleasant  it  is  to  converse  with  him  in  his 
ordinances,  and  to  spend  an  hour  of  devotion  in  some 
retirement,  as  it  were,  in  his  company.  They,  and  only 
they,  have  experienced  the  exertions  of  his  royal  power, 
conquering  their  mightiest  sins,  and  sweetly  subduing 
them  to  himself.  These  are,  in  some  measure,  matters 
of  experience  wi\h  every  true  believer,  and  therefore  it 
is  no  wonder  Jesus  should  be  precious  to  them.  But 
as  to  the  unbelieving  multitude,  poor  creatures  !  they  are 
entire  strangers  to  these  things.  They  may  have  some 
superficial  notions  of  them  floating  in  their  heads,  but 
they  have  never  felt  them  in  their  hearts,  and  therefor© 


ALL    TRL'E    EELIEVEMS.  26b 

tlio  iuihiitely  precious  Lord  Jesus  is  a  worthless,  insigni- 
ficant being  to  them  :  anvd  thus,  alas !  it  will  be  with  the 
unhappy  creatures,  until  experience  becomes  their  teach- 
er :  until  they  taste  for  themselves  that  the  Lord  is  gra- 
cious.    1  Pet.  ii.  3. 

There  is  an  interesting  question,  which,  I  doubt  not, 
!::as  risen  in  the  minds  of  such  of  you  as  have  heard  what 
has  been  said  with  a  particular  application  to  yourselves, 
and  keeps  you  in  a  painful  suspense  :  with  an  answer  to 
which  1  shall  conclude:  "Ami  indeed  a  true  believer  1" 
may  some  of  you  say  ;  "  and  is  Christ  precious  to  me  % 
My  satisfaction  in  this  sweet  subject  is  vastly  abated, 
till  this  question  is  solved.  Sometimes,  I  humbly  think, 
the  evidence  is  in  my  favor,  and  I  begin  to  hope  that  he 
is  indeed  precious  to  my  soul ;  but  alas,  my  love  for  him 
soon  languishes,  and  then  my  doubts  and  fears  return, 
and  I  know  not  what  to  do,  nor  what  to  think  of  myself." 
Do  not  some  of  you,  my  brethren,  long  to  have  this  per- 
plexing case  cleared  upl  O  what  would  you  not  give, 
if  you  might  return  home  this  evening  fully  satisfied  in 
this  point  I  Well,  I  would  willingly  help  yoLi,  for  ex- 
perience has  taught  me  to  sympathise  with  you  under 
this  difficulty.  O  my  heart !  how  often  hast  thou  been 
suspicious  of  thyself  in  this  respect  I  The  readiest  way 
I  can  now  take  to  clear  up  the  matter  is  to  answer  an- 
other question,  naturally  resulting  from  my  subject ;  and 
that  is,  "  How  does  that  high  esteem  which  a  believer 
has  for  Jesus  Christ  discover  itself]  Or  how  does  he 
show  that  Christ  is  indeed  precious  to  him  V  I  answer, 
he  shows  it  in  various  ways ;  particularly  by  his  affec- 
tionate thoughts  of  him,  which  often  rise  in  his  mind, 
and  always  find  welcome  there.  He  discovers  that  Jesus 
is  precious  to  him  by  hating  and  resisting  whatever  is 
displeasing  to  him,  and  by  parting  with  every  thing  that 
comes  in  competition  with  him.  He  will  let  all  go  rath- 
er than  part  with  Christ.  Honor,  reputation,  ease,  rich- 
es, pleasure,  and  even  life  itself,  are  nothing  to  him  in 
comparison  of  Christ,  and  he  will  run  the  risk  of  all; 
nay,  will  actually  lose  all,  if  he  niRy  bu':  win  Christ.  He 
discovers  his  high  esteem  for  him  by  the  pleasure  he 
takes  in  feeling  his  heart  suitably  affected  towards  him, 
and  by  his  uneasiness  when  it  is  otherwise.  O !  when 
he  can  love  Jesus,  when  his  thoughts  affectionately  cfeisp 
23 


266  CHRIST    PRECIOUS    TO  ALL  TRUE  BELIEVERS. 

around  him,  and  when  he  has  a  heart  to  serve  him,  then 
he  is  happy,  his  soul  is  well,  and  he  is  lively  and  cheer- 
ful. But,  alas  !  when  it  is  otherwise  with  him,  when 
his  love  languishes,  when  his  heart  hardens,  when  it  be- 
comes out  of  order  for  his  service,  then  he  grows  un- 
easy and  discontented,  and  cannot  be  at  rest.  When 
Jesus  favors  him  with  his  gracious  presence,  and  revives 
him  with  his  influence,  how  does  he  rejoice  1  But  when 
his  beloved  withdraws  himself  and  is  gone,  how  does  he 
lament  his  absence,  and  long  for  his  return  !  He  weeps  and 
cries  like  a  bereaved,  deserted  orphan,  and  moans  like  a 
loving  turtle  in  the  absence  of  its  mate.  Because  Christ  is 
so  precious  to  him,  he  cunnot  bear  the  thought  of  parting 
with  him,  and  the  least  jealousy  of  his  love  pierces  his  very 
heart.  Because  he  loves  him,  he  longs  for  the  full  enjoy- 
ment of  him,  and  is  ravished  with  the  prospect  of  him. 
Because  Christ  is  precious  to  him,  his  interests  are  so 
too,  and  he  longs  to  see  his  kingdom  flourish,  and  all  men 
fired  v/ith  his  love.  Because  he  loves  him,  he  loves  his 
ordinances  ;  loves  to  hear,  because  it  is  the  word  of 
Jesus ;  loves  to  pray,  because  it  is  maintaining  inter- 
course with  Jesus;  loves  to  sit  at  his  table, because  it  is 
a  memorial  of  Jesus  ;  and  loves  his  people,  because  they 
love  Jesus.  \Yhatever  has  a  relation  to  his  precious 
Savior  is  for  that  reason  precious  to  him  ;  and  when  he 
feels  anything  of  a  contrary  disposition,  alas  !  it  grieves 
him,  and  makes  him  abhor  himself.  These  things  are 
sufficient  to  show  that  the  Lord  Jesus  has  his  heart,  and 
is  indeed  precious  to  him ;  and  is  not  this  the  very  pic- 
ture of  some  trembling,  doubting-  souls  amono-  you  l  If 
it  be,  take  courage.  After  so  many  vain  searches,  you 
have  at  length  discovered  the  welcome  secret,  that 
Christ  is  indeed  precious  to  you  :  and  if  so,  you  may  be 
sure  that  you  are  precious  to  him.  "  You  shall  be 
mine,  saith  the  Lord,  in  the  day  that  I  make  up  my  jew- 
els. Mai.  iii.  17.  If  you  are  now  satisfied,  after  thorough 
trial  of  the  case,  retain  your  hope,  and  let  not  every  dis- 
couraging appearance  renew  your  jealousies  again  ; 
labor  to  be  steady  and  firm  Christians,  and  do  not  stag- 
ger through  unbelief. 

But,  alas !  I  fear  that  many  of  you  know  nothing  ex- 

Ferimcntally  of  the  exercises  of  a  believing  heart,  which 
have  been  describing,  and  consequently  that  Christ  is 


DANGER    OF    LUKEWAKMJNESS    IN    RELIGION.  267 

flot  precious  to  you.  If  this  is  the  case,  you  may  be 
sure  indeed  you  are  hateful  to  him.  He  is  angry  with 
the  wicked  every  day.  "  Those  that  honor  him,  he  will 
honor;  b-ut  they  that  despise  him  shall  be  lightly  esteem- 
ed." 1  Sqm.  ii.  30.  And  what  will  you  do  if  Christ 
should  become  your  enemy  and  fight  against  you  1  If 
this  precious  stone  should  become  a  stone  of  stumbling 
and  a  rock  of  ofience  to  you,  over  which  you  will  fall 
into  ruin,  O  how  dreadful  must  the  fall  be !  What  must 
you  expect  but  to  lie  down  in  unutterable  and  everlast- 
ing sorrow ! 


SERMON  XV. 

THE    DANGER  OF  LUKEWARMNESS  IN  RELIGION. 

Rev.  iii.  15,  16. — /  know  thy  works,  that  thou  art  neither 
cold  nor  hot :  I  would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot.  So  then, 
because  thou  art  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  ?ior  hot,  J 
will  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouth. 

The  soul  of  man  is  endowed  with  such  active  powers, 
that  it  cannot  be  idle  :  and,  if  we  look  round  the  world, 
we  see  it  all  alive  and  busy  in  some  pursuit  or  other. 
What  vigorous  action,  what  labor  and  toil,  what  hurry, 
noise,  and  commotion  about  the  necessaries  of  life,  about 
riches  and  honors !  Here  men  are  in  earnest  :  here 
there  is  no  dissimulation,  no  indifferency  about  txie 
event  They  sincerely  desire,  and  eagerly  strive  for 
these  transient  delights,  or  vain  embellishments  of  a 
mortal  life. 

And  may  we  infer  farther,  that  creatures,  thus  formed 
for  action,  and  thus  laborious  and  unwearied  in  these 
inferior  pursuits,  are  proportionably  vigorous  and  in 
earnest  in  matters  of  infinitely  greater  importance '? 
May  we  conclude,  that  they  proportion  their  labor  and 
activity  to  the  nature  of  things,  and  that  they  are  most 
in  earnest  where  they  are  most  concerned  \  A  stranger 
to  our  world,  that   could  conclude  nothing  concerning 


268  THE    DANGKlt    01 

the  conduct  of  mankind  but  from  the  generous  presump- 
tions of  his  own  charitable  heart,  might  persuade  him- 
self that  this  is  the  case.  But  one  that  has  been  but  a 
little  while  conversant  with  them,  and  taken  the  least 
notice  of  their  temper  and  practice  with  regard  to  that 
most  interesting  thing,  Religion,  must  know  it  is  quite 
otherwise.  For  look  round  you,  and  what  do  you  see  '? 
Here  and  there  indeed  you  may  see  a  few  unfashionable 
creatures,  who  act  as  if  they  looked  upon  religion  to  be 
the  most  interesting  concern ;  and  who  seem  determin- 
ed, let  others  do  as  they  will,  to  make  sure  of  salvation, 
whatever  becomes  of  them  in  other  respects ;  but  as  to 
the  crenerality,  they  are  very  indifferent  about  it.  They 
will  not  indeed  renounce  all  religion  entirely ;  they  will 
make  some  little  profession  of  the  religion  that  happens 
to  be  most  modish  and  reputable  in  their  country,  and 
they  Avill  conform  to  some  of  its  institutions ;  but  it  is  a 
matter  of  indifferency  with  them,  and  they  are  but  little 
concerned  about  it ;  or  in  the  language  of  my  text,  they 
are  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot. 

This  threatening,  /  will  spew  thee  out  of  my  mouthy  has 
been  long  ago  executed  with  a  dreadful  severity  upon 
the  Laodicean  church  ;  and  it  is  now  succeeded  by  a 
mongrel  race  of  Pagans  and  Mahometans  ;  and  the  name 
of  Christ  is  not  heard  among  them.  But,  though  this 
church  has  been  demolished  for  so  many  hundreds  of 
years,  that  lukewarmness  of  spirit  in  religion  which 
brought  this  judgment  upon  them,  still  lives,  and  pos- 
sesses the  Christians  of  our  age  ;  it  may  therefore  be 
expedient  for  us  to  consider  Christ's  friendly  warning  to 
them,  that  we  may  escape  their  doom. 

The  epistles  to  the  seven  churches  in  Asia  are  intro- 
duced with  this  solemn  and  striking  preface,  "  I  know 
thy  works :"  that  is  to  say,  your  character  is  drawn  by 
one  that  thoroughly  knows  you  ;  one  who  inspects  all 
your  conduct,  and  takes  notice  of  you  when  you  take  no 
notice  of  yourselves  ;  one  that  cannot  be  imposed  upon 
by  an  empty  profession  and  artifice,  but  searches  the 
heart  and  the  reins.  O  that  this  truth  were  deeply  im- 
pressed upon  our  hearts :  for  surely  we  could  not  trifle 
and  offend  while  sensible  that  \ve  are  under  the  eye  of 
our  Judge  ! 

/  know  thy  works,  says  he  to  the  Laodicean  church, 


LLTKEWARMAESS    IN'    RELIGION.  26f^ 

thht  thou  art  neither  cold  nor  hot.  This  church  v/aa  in  a 
very  bad  condition,  and  Christ  reproves  her  with  the 
greatest  severity  ;*  and  yet  we  do  not  find  licr  charged 
with  the  practice  or  toleration  of  any  gross  immoralities, 
as  some  of  the  other  churches  were.  She  is  not  censur- 
ed U)v  indulging  fornication  among  her  members,  or  com- 
municating with  idolaters  in  eating  things  sacrificed  to 
idols,  like  some  of  the  rest.  She  was  free  from  the  in- 
fection of  the  Nicolaitans,  which  had  spread  among 
them.  What  then  is  her  charge  %  It  is  a  subtle,  latent 
wickedness,  that  has  no  shocking  appearance,  that 
makes  no  gross  blemish  in  the  outward  character  of  a 
professor  in  the  view  of  others,  and  may  escape  his  own 
notice  ;  it  is,  Thou  art  lukewarm^  and  neither  cold  nor 
hot:  as  if  our  Lord  had  said,  Thou  dost  not  entirely  re- 
nounce and  openly  disregard  the  Christian  religion,  and 
thou  dost  not  make  it  a  serious  business,  and  mind  it  as 
thy  grand  concern.  Thou  hast  a  form  of  godliness,  but 
deniest  the  power.  All  thy  religion  is  a  dull,  languid 
thing,  a  mere  indiHerency  ;  thine  heart  is  not  in  it ;  it  is 
not  animated  with  the  fervor  of  thy  spirit.  Thou  hast 
neither  the  coldness  of  tiie  profligate  sinner,  nor  the 
sacred  fire  and  life  of  the  true  Christian  ;  but  thou  keep- 
est  in  a  sort  of  medium  between  them.  In  some  things 
thou  resemblest  the  one,  in  other  things  the  other ;  as 
lukewarmness  partakes  of  the  nature  both  of  heat  and 
cold. 

Now  such  a  lukewarmness  is  an  eternal  solecism  in 
religion  ;  it  is  the  most  absurd  and  inconsistent  thing 
imaginable  :  more  so  than  avowed  impiety,  or  a  profess- 
ed rejection  of  all  religion:  therefore,  says  Christ,  / 
would  thou  wert  cold  or  hot — i.  e.  "  You  might  be  any 
thing  more  consistently  than  what  you  are.  If  you 
looked  upon  religion  as  a  cheat,  and  openly  rejected  the 
profession  of  it,  it  would  not  be  strange  that  you  should 
be  careless  about  it,  and  disregard  it  in  practice.  But  to 
own  it  true,  and  make  a  profession  of  it,  and  yet  be 
lukewarm  and  indifferent  about  it,  this  is  the  most  ab- 
surd conduct  that  can  be  conceived  5  for,  if  it  be  true,  it 
is  certainly  the  most  important  and  interesting  truth  in 

*  She  was  as  loathsome  to  him  as  lukewarm  water  to  the  stomach,  and 
he  characterizes  her  as  "wretched,  and  miserable,  and  iioor,  and  blind, 
aod  naked."     What  condition  can  be  more  deplorable  ana  dangerous  1 

23* 


270  THE  DANGER  OF 

all  the  world,  and  requires  the  utmost  exertion  of  all 
your  powers." 

When  Christ  expresses  his  abhorrence  of  lukewarm- 
ness  in  the  form  of  a  wish,  /  would  thou  wert  cold 
or  liot^  we  are  not  to  suppose  his  meaning  to  be,  that 
coldness  or  fervor  in  religion  is  equally  acceptable, 
or  that  coldness  is  at  all  acceptable  to  him  ;  for  rea- 
son and  revelation  concur  to  assure  us,  that  the  open 
rejection  and  avowed  contem.pt  of  religion  is  an  aggra- 
vated wickedness,  as  well  as  an  hypocritical  profession. 
But  our  Lord's  design  is  to  express,  in  the  strongest 
manner  possible,  how  odious  and  abominable  their  luke- 
warmncss  was  to  him  ;  as  if  he  should  saj*,  "  Your  state 
is  so  bad,  that  you  cannot  change  for  the  worse  ;  I  would 
rather  you  were  any  thing  than  what  you  are."  You  are 
ready  to  observe,  that  the  lukewarm  professor  is  in  re- 
ality wicked  and  corrupt  at  heart,  a  slave  to  sin,  and  an 
enemy  to  God,  as  well  as  the  avowed  sinner ;  and  there- 
fore they  are  both  hateful  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  both 
in  a  state  of  condemnation.  But  there  are  some  aggra- 
vations peculiar  to  the  lukewarm  professor  that  render 
him  peculiarly  odious  ;  as,  1.  He  adds  the  sin  of  a  hypo- 
critical profession  to  his  other  sins.  The  wickedness  of 
real  irreligion,  and  the  wickedness  of  falsely  pretending 
to  be  religious,  meet  and  centre  in  him  at  once.  2.  To 
all  this  he  adds  the  guilt  of  presumption,  pride,  and  self- 
flattery,  imagining  he  is  in  a  safe  state  and  in  favor  with 
God  ;  whereas  he  that  makes  no  pretensions  to  religion, 
has  no  such  umbrage  for  this  conceit  and  delusion.  Thus 
the  miserable  Laodiceans  "  thought  themselves  rich,  and 
increased  in  goods,  and  in  need  of  nothing."  3.  Hence  it 
follows,  that  the  lukewarm  professor  is  in  the  most  dan- 
gerous condition,  as  he  is  not  liable  to  conviction,  nor  so 
likely  to  be  brought  to  repentance.  Thus  publicans  and 
harlots  received  the  gospel  more  readily  than  the  self- 
righteous  Pharisees.  4.  The  honor  of  God  and  religion 
is  more  injured  by  the  negligent,  unconscientious  be- 
havior of  these  Laodiceans,  than  by  the  vices  of  those 
who  make  no  pretensions  to  religion;  with  whom  there- 
fore its  honor  has  no  connection.  On  these  accounts 
you  see  lukewarmness  is  more  aggravatedly  sinful  and 
dangerous  than  entire  coldness  about  religion. 

So  then,   says  Christ,  "  Because  thou   art  lukewarm, 


LUKEWARMKESS    IN    RELIGION.  271 

nnd  neither  cold  nor  liot,  I  will  spew  thee  out  of  my 
mouth  ;"  this  is  their  doom  ;  as  if  he  should  say,  "  As 
lukewarm  water  is  more  disagreeable  to  the  stomach 
than  either  cold  or  hot,  so  you,  of  all  others,  are  the  most 
abominable  to  me.  I  am  quite  sick  of  such  professors, 
and  I  will  cast  them  out  of  my  church,  and  reject  them 
for  ever." 

My  present  design  is  to  expose  the  peculiar  absurdity 
and  wickedness  of  lukewarmness  or  indifferency  in  reli- 
gion ;  a  disease  that  has  spread  its  deadly  contagion  far 
and  wide  among  us,  and  calls  for  a  speedy  cure.  And 
let  me  previously  observe  to  you,  that,  if  I  do  not  ofler 
you  sufficient  arguments  to  convince  your  own  reason  of 
the  absurdity  and  wickedness  of  such  a  temper,  then  you 
may  still  indulge  it ;  but  that  if  my  arguments  are  suffi- 
cient, then  shake  off  your  sloth,  and  be  fervent  in  spirit ; 
and  if  you  neglect  your  duty  be  it  at  your  peril. 

In  illustrating  this  point  I  shall  proceed  upon  this  plain 
principle,  "  That  religion  is,  of  all  things,  the  most  im- 
portant in  itself,  and  the  most  interesting  to  us."  This 
we  cannot  deny,  without  openly  pronouncing  it  an  im- 
posture. If  there  be  a  God,  as  religion  teaches  us,  he  is 
the  most  glorious,  the  most  venerable,  and  the  most 
lovely  Being  ;  and  nothing  can  be  so  important  to  us  as 
his  favor,  and  nothing  so  terrible  as  his  displeasure.  If 
he  be  our  Maker,  our  Benefactor,  our  Lawgiver  and 
Judge,  it  must  be  our  greatest  concern  to  serve  him  with 
all  our  might.  If  Jesus  Christ  be  such  a  Savior  as  our 
religion  represents,  and  we  profess  to  believe,  he  de- 
mands our  warmest  love  and  most  lively  services.  If 
eternity,  if  heaven  and  hell,  and  the  final  judgment,  are 
realities,  they  are  certainly  the  most  august,  the  most 
awful,  important,  and  interesting  realities  :  and,  in  com- 
parison of  them,  the  most  weighty  concerns  of  the  pre- 
sent life  are  but  trifles,  dreams,  and  shadows.  If  prayer 
and  other  religious  exercises  are  our  duty,  certainly  they 
require  all  the  vigor  of  our  souls  ;  and  nothing  can  be 
more  absurd  or  incongruous  than  to  perform  them  in  a 
languid,  spiritless  manner,  as  if  we  knew  not  what  we 
were  about.  If  there  be  any  life  within  us,  these  are 
proper  objects  to  call  it  forth:  if  our  souls  are  endowed 
with  active  powers,  here  are  objects  that  demand  their 
utmost  exertion.     Here  we  can  never  be  so  much  in  ear- 


272  THE    DiNGER    OF 

nest  as  the  case  requires.  Trifle  about  anything,  but  O 
do  not  trifle  here  !  Be  careless  and  indifferent  about 
crowns  and  kingdoms,  about  health,  life,  and  all  the 
world,  but  O  be  not  careless  and  indifferent  about  such 
immense  concerns  as  these! 

But  to  be  more  particular  :  let  us  take  a  view  of  a 
lukewarm  temper  in  various  attitudes,  or  with  respect  to 
several  objects,  particularly  towards  God — towards  Je- 
sus Christ — a  future  state  of  happiness  or  misery — and 
in  the  duties  of  religion  ;  and  in  each  of  these  views  we 
cannot  but  be  shocked  at  so  monstrous  a  temper,  espe- 
cially if  we  consider  our  difficulties  and  dangers  in  a 
religious  life,  and  the  eagerness  and  activity  of  mankind 
in  inferior  pursuits. 

1.  Consider  v/ho  and  what  God  is.  He  is  the  original 
uncreated  beauty,  the  sum  total  of  all  natural  and  moral 
perfections,  the  origin  of  all  the  excellences  that  are 
scattered  through  this  glorious  universe  5  he  is  the  su- 
preme good,  and  the  only  proper  portion  for  our  immor- 
tal spirits.  He  also  sustains  the  most  majestic  and  en- 
dearing relations  to  us  :  our  Father,  our  Preserver  and 
Benefactor,  our  Lawgiver,  and  our  Judge.  And  is  such 
a  Being  to  be  put  oft' with  heartless,  lukewarm  services  1 
What  can  be  more  absurd  or  impious  than  to  dis- 
honor supreme  excellency  and  beauty  with  a  languid 
love  and  esteem ;  to  trifle  in  the  presence  of  the  most 
venerable  Majesty  ;  treat  the  best  of  Beings  with  indifler- 
ency ;  to  be  careless  about  our  duty  to  such  a  Father ; 
to  return  such  a  Benefactor  only  insipid  complimental 
expressions  of  gratitude ;  to  be  dull  and  spiritless  in 
obedience  to  such  a  Lawgiver  ;  and  to  be  indifferent 
about  the  favor  or  displeasure  of  such  a  Judge  !  I  ap- 
peal to  Heaven  and  earth,  if  this  be  not  the  most  shock- 
ing conduct  imaginable.  Does  not  your  reason  pro- 
nounce it  horrid  and  most  daringly  wicked  1  And  yet 
thus  is  the  great  and  blessed  God  treated  by  the  gene- 
rality of  mankind.  It  is  most  astonishing  that  he  should 
bear  with  such  treatment  so  long,  and  that  mankind 
themselves  are  not  shocked  at  it :  but  such  the  case 
really  is.  And  are  there  not  some  lukewarm  Laodiceans 
in  this  assembly  1  Jesus  knows  your  works,  that  you 
are  neither  cold  nor  hot  j  and  it  is  flt  you  should  also 
know  them.     May  you  not  be  convinced,  upon  a  little 


LUKEWARMNESS    IN    RELIGION.  273 

inquiry,  that  your  l.earts  are  habitually  indifferent  to- 
wards God  1  You  may  indeed  entertain  a  speculative 
esteem  or  a  good  opinion  of  him,  but  are  your  souls 
alive  towards  him  1  Do  they  burn  with  his  love  1  And 
are  you  fervent  in  spirit  when  you  are  serving  him  1 
Some  of  you,  I  hope,  amid  all  your  infirmities,  can  give 
comfortable  answers  to  these  inquiries.  But  alas  !  how 
few !  But  yet  as  to  such  of  you  as  are  lukewarm,  and 
neither  cold  nor  hot,  you  are  the  most  abominable  crea- 
tures upon  earth  to  a  holy  God. — Be  zealous,  be  warm, 
therefore,  and  repent,   (ver.  19.) 

2.  Is  kikewarmness  a  proper  temper  towards  Jesus 
Christ  %  Is  this  a  suitable  return  for  that  love  Avhich 
brought  him  down  from  his  native  paradise  into  our 
wretched  world  I  That  love  which  kept  his  mind  for 
thirty-three  painful  and  tedious  years  intent  upon  this 
one  object,  the  salvation  of  sinners  \  That  love  which 
rendered  him  cheerfully  patient  of  the  shame,  the  curse, 
the  tortures  of  crucifixion,  and  all  the  agonies  of  the 
most  painful  death  1  That  love  which  makes  him  the 
sinner's  friend  still  in  the  courts  of  heaven,  where  he 
appears  as  our  prevailing  Advocate  and  Intercessor  1 
Blessed  Jesus  !  is  lukewarmness  a  proper  return  to  thee 
for  all  this  kindness  X  No  ;  methinks  devils  cannot  treat 
thee  w'orse.  My  fellow-mortals,  my  fellow-sinners,  who 
are  the  objects  of  all  this  love,  can  you  put  him  off  with 
languid  devotions  and  faint  services  \  Then  every  grate- 
ful and  generous  passion  is  extinct  in  your  souls,  and 
you  are  qualified  to  venture  upon  every  form  of  ingrati- 
tude and  baseness.  O  was  Christ  indifferent  about  your 
salvation  1  Was  his  love  lukewarm  towards  you  1  No  : 
your  salvation  was  the  object  of  his  most  intense  appli- 
cation night  and  day  through  the  w^hole  course  of  his 
life,  and  it  lay  nearest  his  heart  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
For  this  he  had  a  baptism  to  he  baptized  with,  a  baptism, 
an  immersion  in  tears  and  blood  ;  and  how  am  I  straitened, 
says  he,  till  it  be  accomplished  I  For  this  with  desire,  ht 
desired,  to  eat  his  last  passover,  because  it  introduced  the 
last  scene  of  his  sufferings.  His  love  !  what  shall  I  say 
of  it  %  What  language  can  describe  its  strength  and 
ardor  1  "  His  love  was  strong  as  death  :  the  coals  thereof 
were  as  coals  of  fire,  which  had  a  most  vehement  flame : 
many  waters  could  not  quench  it,  nor  the  floods  drown 


274  THE    D.ANGER    OF 

it."  Cant.  viii.  6,  7.  Never  did  a  tender  mother  love  her 
sucking  child  with  a  love  equal  to  his.  Never  was  a 
father  more  anxious  to  rescue  an  only  son  fom  the  hands 
of  a  murderer,  or  to  pluck  him  out  of  the  fire,  than  Jesus 
was  to  save  perishing  sinners.  Now  to  neglect  him 
after  all ;  to  forget  him  ;  or  to  think  of  him  with  indiffer- 
ency,  as  though  he  were  a  being  of  but  little  importance, 
and  we  but  little  obliged  to  him,  what  is  all  this  but  the 
most  unnatural,  barbarous  ingratitude,  and  the  most 
shocking  wickedness  X  Do  you  not  expect  everlasting 
happiness  from  him  purchased  at  the  expense  of  his 
blood  \  And  can  you  hope  for  such  an  immense  bless- 
ing from  him  without  feeling  yourselves  most  sensibly 
obliged  to  him  1  Can  you  hope  he  will  do  so  much  for 
you,  and  can  you  be  content  to  do  nothing  for  him,  or  to 
go  through  his  service  with  lukewarmness  and  languor, 
as  if  you  cared  not  how  you  hurried  through  it,  or  how 
little  you  had  to  do  with  it  1  Can  anything  be  more  ab- 
surd or  impious  than  this  1  Methinks  you  may  defy  hell 
to  show  a  worse  temper.  May  not  Christ  justly  wish 
you  were  either  cold  or  hot ;  wish  you  were  anything 
rather  than  thus  lukewarm  towards  him  under  a  profes 
sion  of  friendship  ?  Alas  !  my  brethren,  if  this  be  your 
habitual  temper,  instead  of  being  saved  by  him,  you  may 
expect  he  will  reject  you  with  the  most  nauseating  dis- 
gust and  abhorrence.     But, 

3.  Is  lukewarmness  and  indifferency  a  suitable  temper 
with  respect  to  a  future  state  of  happiness  or  misery '? 
Is  it  a  suitable  temper  with  respect  to  a  happiness  far 
exceeding  the  utmost  bounds  of  our  present  thoughts 
and  wishes ;  a  happiness  equal  to  the  largest  capacities 
of  our  souls  in  their  most  improved  and  perfected  state ; 
a  happiness  beyond  the  grave,  when  all  the  enjoyments 
of  this  transitory  life  have  taken  an  eternal  flight  from 
us,  and  leave  us  hungry  and  famishing  for  ever,  if  these 
be  our  only  portion ;  a  happiness  that  will  last  as  long 
as  our  immortal  spirits,  and  never  fade  or  fly  from  us  { 
Or  are  lukewarmness  and  indifferency  a  suitable  temper 
with  respect  to  a  misery  beyond  expression,  beyond  con- 
ception dreadful ;  a  misery  inflicted  by  a  God  of  almighty 
power  and  inexorable  justice  upon  a  number  of  obstinate, 
incorrigible  rebels  for  numberless,  wilful,  and  daring  pro- 
vocations, inflicted  on  purpose  to   show  his  wrath  and 


LUKEWARMNESS    IN    RELIGION.  275 

make  his  power  known  ;  a  misery  proceeding  from  the 
united  fury  of  divine  indignation,  of  turbulent  passions, 
of  a  guilty  conscience,  of  malicious  tormenting  devils ; 
a  misery  (who  cfin  bear  up  under  the  horror  of  the 
thought  I)  that  shall  last  as  long  as  the  eternal  God  shall 
live  to  inflict  it ;  as  long  as  sin  shall  continue  evil  to  de- 
serve it ;  as  long  as  an  immortal  spirit  shall  endure  to 
bear  it ;  a  misery  that  shall  never  be  mitigated,  never 
intermitted,  never,  never,  never  see  an  end  \  And  re- 
member, that  a  state  of  happiness  or  misery  is  not  far 
remote  from  us,  but  near  us,  just  before  us;  the  next 
year,  the  next  hour,  or  the  next  moment,  we  may  enter 
into  it  ;  is  a  state  for  which  we  are  now  candidates,  now 
upon  trial ;  now  our  eternal  all  lies  at  stake  ;  and  O,  sirs, 
does  an  inactive,  careless  posture  become  us  in*  such  a 
situation  1  Is  a  state  of  such  happiness,  or  such  misery, 
is  such  a  state  just — ^just  before  us,  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ency  to  us  1  O  can  you  be  lukewarm  about  such  mat- 
ters 1  Was  ever  such  prodigious  stupidity  seen  under 
the  canopy  of  heaven,  or  even  in  the  regions  of  hell, 
which  abound  with  monstrous  and  horrid  dispositions  ] 
No  ;  the  hardiest  ghost  below  cannot  make  light  of  these 
things.  Mortals !  can  you  trifle  about  them  I  Well, 
trifle  a  little  longer,  and  your  trifling  will  be  over  for 
ever.  You  may  be  indifferent  about  the  improving  of 
your  time  ;  but  time  is  not  indifferent  whether  to  pass 
by  or  not ;  it  is  determined  to  continue  its  rapid  course, 
and  hurry  you  into  the  ocean  of  eternity,  though  you 
should  continue  sleeping  and  dreaming  through  all  the 
passage.  Therefore  awake,  arise  ;  exert  yourselves  be- 
fore your  doom  be  unchangeably  fixed.  If  you  have  any 
fire  within  you,  here  let  it  burn  ;  if  you  have  any  active 
powers,  here  let  them  be  exerted  ;  here  or  nowhere,  and 
on  no  occasion.  Be  active,  be  in  earnest  where  you 
should  be  ;  or  debase  and  sink  yourselves  into  stocks 
and  stones,  and  escape  the  curse  of  being  reasonable  and 
active  creatures.  Let  the  criminal,  condemned  to  die 
to-morrow,  be  indifferent  about  a  reprieve  or  a  pardon ; 
let  a  drowning  man  be  careless  about  catching  at  the 
only  plank  that  can  save  him  :  but  O  do  not  you  be  care- 
less and  indifTerent  about  eternity,  and  such  amazing 
realities  as  heaven  and  hell.  If  you  disbelieve  these 
things  you  are  infidels  ;  if  you  believe  these  things,  and 


276  THE    DANGER    OF 

yet  are  unaffected  with  them,  you  are  worse  than  mfi- 
dels  :  you  are  a  sort  of  shocking  singularities,  and  pro 
digies  in  nature.  Not  hell  itself  can  find  a  precedent  of 
such  a  conduct.  The  devils  believe,  and  tremble;  you 
believe,  and  trifle  with  things  whose  very  name  strikes 
solemnity  and  awe  through  heaven  and  hell.     But, 

4.  Let  us  see  how  this  lukewarm  temper  agrees  with 
the  duties  of  religion.  And  as  I  cannot  particularize 
them  all,  I  shall  only  mention  an  instance  or  two.  View 
a  lukewarm  professor  in  prayer  ;  he  pays  to  an  omni- 
scient God  the  compliment  of  a  bended  knee,  as  though 
he  could  impose  upon  him  with  such  an  empty  pretence. 
When  he  is  addressing  the  Supreme  Majesty  of  heaven 
and  earth,  he  hardly  ever  recollects  in  whose  presence 
he  is,  or  whom  he  is  speaking  to,  but  seems  as  if  he  were 
worshiping  without  an  object,  or  pouring  out  empty 
words  into  the  air  :  perhaps  through  the  whole  prayer 
he  had  not  so  much  as  one  solemn,  aflecting  thought  of 
that  God  whose  name  he  so  often  invoked.  Here  is  a 
criminal  petitioning  for  pardon  so  carelessly,  that  he 
scarcely  knows  what  he  is  about.  Here  is  a  needy, 
famishing  beggar  pleading  for  such  immense  blessings 
as  everlasting  salvation,  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven,  so 
lukewarmly  and  thoughtlessly,  as  if  he  cared  not  whe- 
ther his  requests  were  granted  or  not.  Here  is  an  ob- 
noxious offender  confessing  his  sins  with  a  heart  un- 
touched with  sorrow ;  worshiping  the  living  God  with 
a  dead  heart ;  making  great  requests,  but  he  forgets  them 
as  soon  as  he  rises  from  his  knees,  and  is  not  at  all  in- 
quisitive what  becomes  of  them,  and  whether  they  were 
accepted  or  not.  And  can  there  be  a  more  shocking, 
impious,  and  daring  conduct  than  this  1  To  trifle  in  the 
royal  presence  would  not  be  such  an  audacious  affront. 
For  a  criminal  to  catch  flies,  or  sport  with  a  feather, 
when  pleading  with  his  judge  for  his  pardon,  would  be 
but  a  faint  shadow  of  such  religious  trifling.  What  are 
such  prayers  but  solemn  mockeries  and  disguised  insults  1 
And  yet,  is  not  this  the  usual  method  in  which  many  of 
you  address  the  great  God  1  The  words  proceed  no  fur- 
ther than  from  your  tongue  :  you  do  not  pour  them  out 
from  the  bottom  of  your  hearts ;  they  have  no  life  or 
spirit  in  them,  and  you  hardly  ever  reflect  upon  their 
meaning.     And  when  you  have  talked  dway  to  God  in 


LUKEWARMNESS    IN    RELIGION.  277 

this  manner,  you  will  have  it  to  pass  for  a  prayer.  But 
surely  such  prayers  must  bring  down  a  curse  upon  yoii 
instead  of  a  blessing :  such  sacrifices  must  be  an  ahom- 
ination  to  the  Lord:  Prov.  xv.  8;  and  it  is  astonishing 
that  he  has  not  mingled  your  blood  with  your  sacrifices, 
and  sent  you  from  your  knees  to  hell ;  from  thoughtless, 
unmeaning  prayer,  to  real  blasphemy  and  torture. 

The  next  instance  I  shall  mention  is  with  regard  to  the 
word  of  God.  You  own  it  divine,  you  profess  it  the 
standard  of  your  religion,  and  the  most  excellent  booj<: 
in  the  world.  Now,  if  this  be  the  case,  it  is  God  that 
speaks  to  you ;  it  is  God  that  sends  you  an  epistle  when 
you  are  readirj^'  or  hearing  his  word.  How  impious  and 
provoking  then  must  it  be  to  neglect  it,  to  let  it  lie  by 
you  as  an  antiquated,  useless  book,  or  to  read  it  in  a  care- 
less, superficial  manner,  and  hear  it  with  an  inattentive, 
wandering  mind  1  How  would  you  take  it,  if,  when  you 
spoke  to  your  servant  about  his  own  interest,  he  should 
turn  away  from  you,  and  not  regard  you  1  Or  if  you 
should  write  a  letter  to  your  son,  and  he  should  not  so 
much  as  carefully  read  it,  or  labor  to  understand  it  1 
And  do  not  some  of  you  treat  the  sacred  oracles  in  this 
manner  1  You  make  but  little  use  of  your  Bible,  but  to 
teach  your  children  to  read :  or  if  you  read  or  hear 
its  contents  yourselves,  are  you  not  unaffected  with 
them  ]  One  would  think  you  would  be  all  attention  and 
reverence  to  every  word  ;  you  would  drink  it  in,  and 
thirst  for  it  as  new-born  babes  for  their  mother's  milk  ; 
you  would  feel  its  energy,  and  acquire  the  character  of 
that  happy  man  to  whom  the  God  of  heaTen  vouchsafes 
to  look  5  you  would  tremble  at  his  word.  It  reveals  the 
only  method  of  your  salvation  :  it  contains  the  only 
charter  of  all  your  blessings.  In  short,  you  have  the 
nearest  personal  interest  in  it,  and  can  you  be  uncon- 
cerned hearers  of  it  1  I  am  sure  your  reason  and  con- 
science must  condemn  such  stupidity  and  indifferency  as 
incongruous,  and  outrageously  wicked. 

And  now  let  me  remind  you  of  the  observation  I  made 
when  entering  upon  this  subject,  that  if  I  should  not  of- 
fer sufficient  matter  of  conviction,  you  might  go  on  in 
your  lukewarmness  ;  but  if  your  own  reason  should  be 
fully  convinced  that  such  a  temper  is  most  wicked  and 
unreasonable,  then  you  might  indulge  at  your  peril 
24 


278 


THE    DANGER    OF 


What  do  you  say  now  is  the  issue  1  Ye  modern  Laodi- 
ceans,  are  you  not  yet  struck  with  horror  at  the  thought 
of  that  insipid,  formal,  spiritless  religion  you  have  hi- 
therto been  contented  with  '?  And  do  you  not  see  the 
necessity  of  following  the  advice  of  Christ  to  the  Laodi- 
cean church,  be  zealous^  be  fervent  for  the  future,  and  re- 
pent, bitterly  repent  of  what  is  past  ?  To  urge  this  the 
more,  I  have  two  considerations  in  reserve,  of  no  small 
weight.  1.  Consider  the  difficulties  and  dangers  in  your 
way.  0  sirs,  if  you  know  the  difficulty  of  the  work  of 
your  salvation,  and  the  great  danger  of  miscarrying  in 
it,  you  could  not  be  so  indifferent  about  it,  nor  could  you 
flatter  yourselves  such  languid  endeavors  will  ever  suc- 
ceed. It  is  a  labor,  a  striving,  a  race,  a  warfare  ;  so  it  is 
called  in  the  sacred  writings  :  but  would  there  be  any 
propriety  in  these  expressions,  if  it  were  a  course  of 
sloth  and  inactivity  ]  Consider,  you  have  strong  lusts  to 
be  subdued,  a  hard  heart  to  be  broken,  a  variety  of  graces 
which  you  are  entirely  destitute  of,  to  be  implanted  and 
cherished,  and  that  in  an  unnatural  soil,  where  they  will 
not  grow  without  careful  cultivation,  and  that  you  have 
many  temptations  to  be  encountered  and  resisted.  In 
short,  you  must  be  made  new  men,  quite  other  creatures 
than  you  now  are.  And  0  !  can  this  work  be  success- 
fully performed  while  you  make  such  faint  and  feeble  ef- 
forts ]  Indeed  God  is  the  Agent,  and  all  your  best  en- 
deavors can  never  effect  the  blessed  revolution  without 
him.  But  his  assistance  is  not  to  be  expected  in  the 
neglect,  or  careless  use  of  means,  nor  is  it  intended  to 
encourage  idleness,  but  activity  and  labor  :  and  when  he 
comes  to  work,  he  will  soon  inflame  your  hearts,  and 
put  an  end  to  your  lukewarmness.  Again,  your  dangers 
are  also  great  and  numerous  ;  you  are  in  danger  from 
presumption  and  from  despondency  ;  from  coldness,  from 
lukewarmness,  and  from  false  fires  and  enthusiastic 
heats  ;  in  danger  from  self-righteousness,  and  from  open 
wickedness,  from  your  own  corrupt  hearts,  from  this  en- 
snaring world,  and  from  the  temptations  of  the  devil : 
j^ou  are  in  great  danger  of  sleeping  on  in  security,  with- 
out ever  being  thoroughly  awakened  ;  or,  if  you  should 
be  awakened,  you  are  in  danger  of  resting  short  of  vital 
religion ;  and  in  either  of  these  cases  you  are  undone 
for  ever.     In  a  word,  dangers  crowd  thick  around  you 


LUKEWARMNESS    IN    RELIGION. 


279 


on  every  hand,  from  every  quarter;  dangers,  into  which 
thousands,  millions  of  your  fellow-men  have  fallen  and 
never  recovered.  Indeed,  all  things  considered,  it  is  very 
doubtful  whether  ever  you  will  be  saved,  who  are  now 
lukeAvarm  and  secure :  1  do  not  mean  that  your  success 
is  uncertain  if  you  be  brought  to  use  means  with  proper 
earnestness ;  but  alas !  it  is  awfully  uncertain  whether 
ever  you  will  be  brought  to  use  them  in  this  manner. 
And,  O  sirs,  can  you  continue  secure  and  inactive  when 
you  have  such  difficulties  to  encounter  with  in  a  work 
of  absolute  necessity,  and  when  you  are  surrounded  with 
so  many  and  so  great  dangers  1  Alas !  are  you  capable 
of  such  destructive  madness^.  0  that  you  knew  the 
true  state  of  the  case  !  Such  a  knowledge  would  soon 
fire  you  with  the  greatest  ardor,  and  make  you  all  life 
and  vigor  in  this  important  work. 

2.  Consider  how  earnest  and  active  men  are  in  other 
pursuits.  Should  w^e  form  a  judgment  of  the  faculties 
of  human  nature  by  the  conduct  of  the  generality  in  re- 
ligion, we  should  be  apt  to  conclude  that  men  are  mere 
snails,  and  that  they  have  no  active  powers  belonging  to 
them.  But  view  them  about  other  affairs,  and  you  find 
they  are  all  life,  fire,  and  hurry.  What  labor  and  toil ! 
what  schemes  and  contrivances !  what  solicitude  about 
success !  what  fears  of  disappointment !  hands,  heads, 
hearts,  all  busy.  And  all  this  to  procure  those  enjoy- 
ments which  at  best  they  cannot  long  retain,  and  which 
the  next  hour  may  tear  from  them.  To  acquire  a  name 
or  a  diadem,  to  obtain  riches  or  honors,  what  hardships 
are  undergone  !  what  dangers  dared  !  what  rivers  of 
blood  shed !  how  many  millions  of  lives  have  been  lost ! 
and  how  many  more  endangered  !  In  short  the  world  is 
all  alive,  all  in  motion  with  business.  On  sea  and  land, 
at  home  and  abroad,  you  will  find  men  eagerly  pursuing 
some  temporal  good.  They  grow  grey-headed,  and  die 
m  the  attempt  without  reaching  their  end  ;  but  this  dis- 
appointment does  not  discourage  the  survivors  and  suc- 
cessors ;  still  they  will  continue,  or  renew  the  endeavor. 
Now  here  men  act  like  themselves ;  and  they  show  they 
are  alive,  and  endowed  with  powders  of  great  activity. 
And  shall  they  be  thus  zealous  and  laborious  in  the  pur- 
suit of  earthly  vanities,  and  quite  indifferent  and  slug- 
g^ish  in  the  infinitely  more  important  concerns  of  eterni- 


280  THE    DANGER    OF 

ty  1  What,  solicitous  about  a  mortal  body,  but  careless 
about  an  immortal  soul  !  Eager  in  pursuit  of  joys  of  a 
few  years,  but  careless  and  re-miss  in  seeking  an  immor- 
tality of  perfect  happiness  !  Anxious  to  avoid  poverty, 
shame,  sickness,  pain,  and  all  the  evils,  real  or  imagina- 
ry, of  the  present  life  ;  but  indifferent  about  a  whole 
eternity  of  the  most  intolerable  misery !  0,  the 
destructive  folly,  the  daring  wickedness  of  such  a  con- 
duct !  My  brethren,  is  religion  the  only  thing  which  de- 
mands the  utmost  exertion  of  all  your  powers,  and  alas! 
is  that  the  only  thing  in  which  you  will  be  dull  and  in- 
active 1  Is  everlasting  happiness  the  only  thing  about 
which  you  will  be  remiss  ']  Is  eternal  punishment  the  on- 
ly misery  which  you  are  indifferent  whether  you  escape 
or  not  ]  Is  God  the  only  good  which  you  pursue  with 
faint  and  lazy  desires  1  How  preposterous  !  how  absurd 
is  this  !  You  can  love  the  world,  you  can  love  a  father, 
a  child,  or  a  friend  ;  nay,  you  can  love  that  abominable, 
hateful  thing,  sin  :  these  you  can  love  with  ardor,  serve 
with  pleasure,  pursue  with  eagerness,  and  with  all  your 
might ;  but  the  ever-blessed  God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus, 
your  best  friend,  you  put  ofi'  with  a  lukewarm  heart  and 
spiritless  services.  O  inexpressibly  monstrous  !  Lord, 
what  is  this  that  has  befallen  thine  own  ofispring,  that 
they  are  so  disaffected  towards  thee  1  Blessed  Jesus, 
what  hast  thou  done  that  thou  shouldst  be  treated  thus  1 
O  sinners !  what  will  be  the  consequence  of  such  a  con- 
duct l  Will  that  God  take  you  into  the  bosom  of  his  love  1 
Will  that  Jesus  save  you  by  his  blood,  whom  you  make 
so  light  of  1  No,  you  may  go  and  seek  a  heaven  Avhere 
you  can  find  it ;  for  God  will  give  you  none.  Go,  shift 
for  yourselves,  or  look  out  for  a  Savior  where  you  willj 
Jesus  Avill  have  nothing  to  do  with  you,  except  to  take 
care  to  inflict  proper  punishment  upon  you  if  you  retain 
this  lukewarm  temper  towards  him.  Hence,  by  way  of 
improvement,  learn, 

1.  The  vanity  and  wickedness  of  a  lukewarm  religion. 
Though  you  should  profess  the  best  religion  that  ever 
came  from  heaven,  it  will  not  save  you  ;  nay,  it  will  con- 
demn you  with  peculiar  aggravations  if  you  are  luke- 
warm in  it.  This  spirit  of  indifferency  diflused  through 
it,  turns  it  all  into  deadly  poison.  Your  religious  duties 
are  all  abominable  to  God  while  the  vigor  of  your  spirits 


LUKEAVARMNESS    IN    RELIGIOx\.  281 

is  not  exerted  in  them.  Your  prayers  are  insults,  and 
he  will  answer  them  as  such  by  terrible  things  in  right- 
eousness. And  do  any  of  you  hope  to  be  saved  by  such 
a  religion  1  I  tell  you  from  the  God  of  truth,  it  will  be 
so  far  from  saving  you,  that  it  will  certainly  ruin  you 
for  ever  :  continue  as  you  are  to  the  last,  and  you  Avill  be 
as  certainly  damned  to  all  eternity,  as  Judas,  or  Beelze- 
bub, or  any  ghost  in  hell.     But  alas  ! 

2.  How  common,  how  fashionable  is  this  lukewarm 
religion  !  This  is  the  prevailing,  epidemical  sin  of  our 
age  and  country  ;  and  it  is  well  if  it  has  not  the  same  fa- 
tal effect  upon  us  it  had  upon  Laodicea;  Laodicea 
lost  its  liberty,  its  religion,  and  its  all.  Therefore  let 
Virginia  hear  and  fear,  and  do  no  more  so  wickedly.  We 
have  thousands  of  Christians,  such  as  they  are  ;  as  many 
Christians  as  white  men  ;  but  alas  !  they  are  generally 
of  the  Laodicean  stamp ;  they  are  neither  cold  nor  hot 
But  it  is  our  first  concern  to  know  how  it  is  with  our- 
selves ;  therefore  let  this  inquiry  go  round  this  congre- 
gation ;  are  you  not  such  lukewarm  Christians  1  Is  there 
any  fire  and  life  in  your  devotions  (    Or  are  not  all  your 

"active  powers  engrossed  by  other  pursuits  ] — Impartially 
make  the  inquiry,  for  infinitelj^  more  depends  upon  it 
than  upon  your  temporal  life. 

3.  If  you  have  hitherto  been  possessed  with  this  Lao^ 
dicean  spirit,  I  beseech  you  indulge  it  no  longer.  You 
have  seen  that  it  mars  all  your  religion,  and  will  end  in 
your  eternal  ruin  :  and  I  hope  you  are  not  so  hardened 
as  to  be  proof  against  the  energy  of  this  consideration. 
Why  halt  you  so  long  between  two  opinions  1  I  icould 
you  were  cold  or  hot.  Either  make  thorough  work  of  re- 
ligion, or  do  not  pretend  to  it.  Why  should  you  profess 
a  religion  which  is  but  an  insipid  indifferency  with  you  1 
Such  a  religion  is  good  for  nothing.  Therefore  awake, 
arise,  exert  yourselves.  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate  ;  strive  earnestly,  or  you  are  shut  out  for  ever.  In- 
fuse heart  and  spirit  into  your  religion.  "  Whatever 
your  hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  your  might."  Now, 
this  moment,  while  my  voice  sounds  in  your  ears,  now 
begin  the  vigorous  enterprise.  Now  collect  all  the  vigor 
of  your  souls  and  breathe  it  out  in  such  a  prayer  as 
this,  "  Lord,  fire  this  heart  with  thy  love."  Prayer  is  a 
proper  introduction  :  for  let  me  remind  you  of  what  I 

24* 


282  THE    DIVINE    GOVERNMENT 

should  never  forget,  that  God  is  the  only  Author  of  this 
sacred  fire  ;  it  is  only  he  that  can  quicken  you  ;  there- 
fore, ye  poor  careless  creatures,  fly  to  him  in  an  agony 
of  importunity,  and  never  desist,  never  grow  weary  till 
you  prevail. 

4.  And  lastly  :  Let  the  best  of  us  lament  our  lukewarm- 
ness,  and  earnestly  seek  more  fervor  of  spirit.  Some  of 
you  have  a  little  life ;  you  enjoy  some  warm  and  vigor 
ous  moments  ;  and  0  !  they  are  divinely  sweet.  But 
reflect  how  soon  your  spirits  flag,  your  devotion  cools, 
and  your  zeal  languishes.  Think  of  this,  and  be  hum- 
ble :  think  of  this,  and  apply  for  more  life.  You  know 
where  to  apply.  Christ  is  your  life  :  therefore  cry  to 
him  for  the  communication  of  it.  "  Lord  Jesus !  a  lit- 
tle more  life,  a  little  more  vital  heat  to  a  languishing  soul." 
Take  this  method,  and  "  you  shall  run,  and  not  be  wea- 
ry ;  you  shall  Vv'alk  and  not  faint."     Isaiah  xl.  3L 


SERMON  XVI. 

THE    DIVINE    GOVERNMENT  THE    JOY  OF  OUR  WORLD. 

PsALM  xcvii.   1. — The  Lord  reigneth^  let  the  earth  rejoice  , 
let  the  multitude  of  the  isles  he  glad  thereof. 

Wise  and  good  rulers  are  justly  accounted  an  exten- 
sive blessing  to  their  subjects.  In  a  government  where 
wisdom  sits  at  the  helm ;  and  justice,  tempered  with 
clemency,  holds  the  balance  of  retribution,  liberty  and 
property  are  secured,  encroaching  ambition  is  checked, 
helpless  innocence  is  protected,  and  universal  order  is 
established,  and  consequently  peace  and  happiness  difl'use 
their  streams  through  the  land.  In  such  a  situation  eve 
ry  heart  must  rejoice,  every  countenance  look  cheerful, 
and  every  bosom  glow  with  gratitude  to  the  happy  in- 
struments of  such  extended  beneflcence. 

But,  on  the  otiier  hand,  "  Wo  to  thee,  O  land,  when 
thy  king  is  a  child,"  Eccles.  x.  16  ;  weak,  injudicious, 
humorsome,  and  peevish.     This  is  the  denunciation  of 


THE    JOY    OF    OUR    WORLD.  283 

Solomon,  a  sage  philosopher,  and  an  opulent  king,  whose 
station,  capacity,  and  inclination,  conspired  to  give  him 
the  deepest  skill  in  politics  :  and  this  denunciation  has 
been  accomplished  in  every  age.  Empires  have  fallen, 
liberty  has  been  fettered,  property  has  been  invaded,  the 
lives  of  men  have  been  arbitrarily  taken  away,  and  mise- 
ry and  desolation  have  broken  in  like  a  flood,  when  the 
government  has  been  entrusted  in  the  hands  of  tyranny, 
of  luxury,  or  rashness  5  and  the  advantages  of  climate 
and  soil,  and  all  others  which  nature  could  bestOAV,  have 
not  been  able  to  make  the  subjects  happy  under  the  bale- 
ful influence  of  such  an  administration. 

It  has  frequently  been  the  unhappy  fate  of  nations  to 
be  enslaved  to  such  rulers ;  but  such  is  the  unavoidable 
imperfection  of  all  human  governments,  that  when,  like 
our  own,  they  are  managed  by  the  best  hands,  they  are 
attended  with  many  calamities,  and  cannot  answer  seve- 
ral valuable  ends  ;  and  from  both  these  considerations 
we  may  infer  the  necessity  of  a  divine  government  over 
the  whole  universe,  and  particularly  over  the  earth,  in 
which  we  are  more  especially  concerned.  Without  this 
supreme  universal  Monarch,  the  affairs  of  this  Avorld 
would  fall  into  confusion ;  and  the  concerns  of  the  next 
could  not  be  managed  at  all.  The  capacities  of  the 
wisest  of  men  are  scanty,  and  not  equal  to  all  the  pur- 
poses of  government ;  and  hence  many  affairs  of  im- 
portance wdll  be  unavoidably  misconducted  5  and  danger- 
ous plots  and  aggravated  crimes  may  be  undiscovered 
for  want  of  knowledge,  or  pass  unpunished  for  want  of 
power.  A  wnse  and  good  ruler  may  be  diffusing  among 
his  subjects  all  that  happiness  which  can  result  from  the 
imperfect  administration  of  mortals,  but  he  may  be  tum- 
bled from  his  throne,  and  his  government  thrown  into 
the  greatest  disorder  by  a  more  powerful  invader  ;  so 
that  the  best  ruler  could  not  make  his  subjects  lastingly 
happy,  unless  he  were  universal  monarch  of  the  globe  (a 
province  too  great  for  any  mortal)  and  above  the  reach 
of  the  ambitious  power  of  others.  Further,  human  do- 
minion cannot  extend  to  the  souls  and  consciences  of 
men :  civ  il  rulers  can  neither  know  nor  govern  them  ; 
and  yet  these  must  be  governed  and  brought  into  subjec- 
tion to  the  eternal  laws  of  reason,  otherwise  tranquillity 
cannot   subsist  on  earth ;  and  especially  the   great  pur- 


284-  THE  DIVINE  gover.nm;-:m 

poses  of  relig-ion,  which  regard  a  future  state,  cannot  be 
answered. 

Men  are  placed  here  to  be  formed  by  a  proper  educa- 
tion for  another  world,  for  another  class,  and  other  em- 
ploj'ments  ;  but  civil  rulers  cannot  form  them  for  these 
important  ends,  and  therefore  they  mnst  be  under  the 
government  of  one  wdio  has  access  to  their  spirits,  and 
can  manage  them  as  he  pleases. 

Deeply  impressed  wdth  these  and  other  considerations, 
Avhich  shall  be  presently  mentioned,  the  Psalmist  is 
transported  into  this  reflection,  "  The  Lord  reigneth,  let 
the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multitudes  of  the  isles  be  glad 
thereof." 

The  Psalmist  seems  to  have  the  mediatorial  empire  of 
grace  erected  by  Immanuel  more  immediately  in  view  ; 
and  this  indeed  deserves  our  special  notice ;  but  no 
doubt  he  included  the  divine  government  in  general, 
which  is  a  just  ground  of  universal  joy  j  and  in  this  lati- 
tude I  shall  consider  the  text. 

Persons  in  a  transport  are  apt  to  speak  abruptly,  and 
omit  the  particles  of  connection  and  inference  usual  in 
calm  reasoning.  Thus  the  Psalmist  cries  out,  "The 
Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoicej  let  the  multitude 
of  the  isles  be  glad  thereof !"  but  if  we  reduce  the  pas- 
sage into  an  argumentative  form,  it  will  stand  thus, 
'*  The  Lord  reigneth,  therefore  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  and 
let  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be  glad  upon  this  ac- 
count." 

The  earth  may  here  signify,  by  an  usual  metonymy, 
the  rational  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  who  are  especially 
concerned  in  the  divine  government ;  or,  by  a  beautiful 
poetical  prosopoposia,  it  may  signify  the  inanimate  globe 
of  the  earth,  and  then  it  intimates  that  the  divine  govern- 
ment is  so  important  a  blessing,  that  even  the  inanimate 
and  senseless  creation  would  rejoice  in  it,  were  it  capa- 
ble of  such  passions.*  The  isles  may  likewise  be  taken 
figuratively  for  their  inhabitants,  particularly  the  Gen 
tiles,  who  resided  in  them  ;  or  literally  for  tracts  of  land 
surrounded  with  w^ater. 

My  present  design  is, 

•  By  the  same  figure  the  inanimate  parts  of  th'j  creation  are  called  upon 
to  praise  the  Lord,  Psalm  cxlviii.,  and  are  said  to  travail  and  groan  under 
tlie  sin  of  man. — iiom.  viii. 22. 


THE    JOY    OF    OUR    WORLD.  285 

To  illustrate  this  glorious  truth,  that  Jehovah's  su- 
preme govern??icnt  is  a  just  cause  of  universal  joy. 

For  that  end  I  shall  consider  the  divine  government 
in  various  views,  as  legislative,  providential,  mediatorial, 
and  judicial  ;  and  show  that  in  each  of  these  views  the 
divine  government  is  matter  of  universal  joy. 

I.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  legislation. 
"Let  the  earth  rejoice;  let  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be 
glad  thereof." 

He  is  the  one  supreme  Lavrgiver,  James  iv.  12,  and  is 
perfectly  qualified  for  that  important  trust.  Nothing 
tends  more  to  the  advantage  of  civil  society  than  to 
have  good  laws  established,  according  to  which  mankind 
are  to  conduct  themselves,  and  according  to  which  their 
rulers  will  deal  with  them.  Now  the  supreme  and  uni- 
versal King  has  enacted  and  published  the  best  laws  for 
the  government  of  the  moral  world,  and  of  the  human 
race  in  particular. 

Let  the  earth  then  rejoice  that  God  has  clearly  re- 
vealed his  will  to  us,  and  not  left  us  in  inextricable  per- 
plexities about  our  duty  to  him  and  mankind.  Human 
reason,  or  the  light  of  nature,  gives  us  some  intimations 
of  the  duties  of  morality,  even  in  our  degenerate  state, 
and  for  this  information  we  should  bless  God  ;  but 
alas  !  these  discoveries  are  very  imperfect,  and  Ave  need 
supernatural  revelation  to  make  known  to  us  the  way  of 
life.  Accordingly,  the  Lord  has  favored  us  with  the 
sacred  oracles  as  a  supplement  to  the  feeble  light  of 
nature  ;  and  in  them  we  are  fully  "  taught  what  is  good, 
and  what  the  Lord  requireth  of  us."  And  what  cause 
of  joy  is  this  !  How  painful  are  the  anxieties  that  attend 
uncertainty  about  matters  of  duty  !  How  distressing  a 
doubtful,  fluctuating  mind,  in  an  afiair  of  such  tremen- 
dous importance  !  This,  no  doubt,  some  of  you  that  are 
conscientious  have  had  the  experience  of,  in  particular 
cases,  when  you  were  at  a  loss  to  apply  to  them  the 
general  directions  in  sacred  Scripture. 

Again,  '^  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multitude  of  the 
isles  be  glad,"  that  these  laws  are  suitably  enforced  with 
proper  sanctions.  The  sanctions  are  such  as  become  a 
God  of  infinite  wisdom,  almighty  power,  inexorable 
justice,  untainted  holiness,  and  unbounded  goodness 
and  grace,  and  such  as  are  agreeable  to  the  nature  of 


286  THE    DIVIME    GOVERiN'MEJN'T 

reasonable  creatures  formed  for  an  immortal  duration. 
The  rewards  of  obedience  in  the  divine  legislation  are 
not  such  toys  as  posts  of  honor  and  profit,  crowns  and 
empires,  which  are  the  highest  rewards  that  civil  rulers 
can  promise  or  bestow  ;  but  rational  peace  and  serenity 
of  mind,  undaunted  bravery  under  the  frowns  of  adver- 
sity, a  cheerful  confidence  in  the  divine  guardianship 
under  all  the  calamities  of  life,  and  in  the  future  world  an 
entire  exemption  from  all  sorrow,  and  from  sin,  the 
fruitful  source  of  all  our  afflictions  ;  the  possession  of 
every  good,  the  enjoyment  of  the  divine  presence,  of 
the  society  of  angels  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect  ;  in  short,  the  fruition  of  a  happiness  above  our 
present  wishes,  and  equal  to  our  then  mature  faculties, 
and  all  this  for  ever  :  these  are  the  rewards  of  evangeli- 
cal obedience,  not  indeed  for  its  ownn  sake,  but  upon 
account  of  the  righteousness  of  the  blessed  Jesus  ;  and 
if  these  fail  to  allure  men  to  obedience,  what  can  prevail  1 
And  how  happy  is  it  to  live  under  a  government,  where 
virtue  and  reliprion,  which  in  their  own  nature  tend  to 
our  happiness,  are  enforced  with  such  resistless  argu- 
ments !  On  the  other  hand,  the  penalty  annexed  by  the 
divine  Lawgiver  to  disobedience  is  proportionably 
dreadful.  To  pine  and  languish  under  the  secret  curse 
of  angry  Heaven,  which,  like  a  contagious  poison,  dif- 
fuses itself  through  all  the  enjoyments  of  the  wicked, 
Mai.  ii.  2 ;  to  sweat  under  the  agonies  of  a  guilty  con- 
science in  this  world,  and  in  the  future  world  to  be  ban- 
ished from  the  beatific  presence  of  God  and  all  the  joys 
of  heaven  ;  to  feel  the  anguish  and  remorse  of  guilty  re- 
flections ;  -to  burn  in  unquenchable  fire  ;  to  consume  a 
miserable  eternity  in  the  horrid  society  of  malignant 
ghosts ;  and  all  this  without  the  least  rational  expecta- 
tion, nay,  without  so  much  as  a  deluded  hope  of  deliver- 
ance, or  the  mitigation  of  torture,  through  the  revolu- 
tions of  endless  ages,  all  this  is  a  faint  representation  of 
the  penalty  annexed  to  disobedience  ;  and  it  is  a  penalty 
worthy  a  God  to  inflict,  and  equal  to  the  infinite  malig- 
nity of  sin.  And  "  let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multi- 
tude of  the  isles  be  glad,"  on  account  not  only  of  the 
promissory  sanction  of  the  law,  but  also  of  this  tremen- 
dous penalty  ;  for  it  flows  not  only  from  justice,  but  from 
goodness,  as  well  as  its  promise.       The  penalty  is  not 


THE    JOY    Of    OUR    WORLD.  287 

annexed  to  the  law,  nor  will  it  be  executed  from  a  ma- 
lignant pleasure  in  the  misery  of  the  creature,  but  it  is 
annexed  from  a  regard  to  the  happiness  of  mankind,  and 
will  be  executed  upon  individuals  for  tlie  extensive  good 
of  the  whole  as  well  as  for  the  honorable  display  of  the 
divine  purity  and  justice.  A  penalty  is  primarily  in- 
tended to  deter  men  from  disobedience.  Now  disobe- 
dience tends  in  its  own  nature  to  make  us  miserable  ;  it 
renders  it  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  we 
should  be  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  God  and  the  em- 
plo^'ments  of  heaven,  which  are  eternally  and  immutably 
contrary  to  sinful  dispositions ;  and  it  lills  us  with  those 
malignant  and  unruly  passions  which  cannot  but  make 
us  uneasy.  Hence  it  follows,  that,  since  the  penalty 
tends  to  deter  us  from  sin,  and  since  sin  naturally  tends 
to  miake  us  miserable,  therefore  the  penalty  is  a  kind  of 
gracious  enclosure  round  the  pit  of  misery,  to  keep  us 
from  falling  into  it  :  it  is  a  friendly  admonition  not  to 
drink  poison  ;  it  is,  in  a  word,  a  kind  restraint  upon  us 
in  our  career  to  ruin  5  and  indeed  it  is  a  blessing  we 
could  not  spare  ;  for  we  find,  that,  notwithstanding  the 
terror  of  the  threatening,  men  will  run  on  in  sin  ;  and 
with  how  much  more  horrid  alacrity  and  infernal  zeal 
would  they  continue  their  course,  if  there  were  no  divine 
threatening  to  check  and  withhold  them  ]  The  earth 
may  also  rejoice  for  the  execution  of  the  penalty  of  the 
divine  law  against  sin ;  for  the  conspicuous  punishment 
of  the  disobedient  may  serve  as  a  loud  v/arning  to  all 
rational  beings  that  now  exist,  or  that  may  hereafter  be 
created,  not  to  offend  against  God  ;  and  thus  it  may  be 
the  means  of  preserving  them  in  obedience,  and  so  pro- 
mote the  general  good ;  and  it  may  be  that  the  number 
of  those  that  shall  be  punished  of  the  human  and  angelic 
natures,  when  compared  to  the  number  of  reasonable 
beings  that  shall  be  confirmed  in  holiness  and  happiness 
by  observing  their  doom,  may  bear  no  more  proportion 
than  the  number  of  criminals  executed  in  a  government 
as  public  example  does  to  all  the  subjects  of  it ;  and  con- 
sequently such  punishment  may  be  vindicated  on  the 
same  principles.  Farther,  Justice  is  an  amiable  attribute 
in  itself,  and  it  appears  so  to  all  rational  beings  but 
criminals,  whose  interest  it  is,  that  it  should  not  be  dis- 
played J  and  therefore  the  infliction  of  just  punishment 


288  THE    DIVirsE    GOVEKi\MEMT 

should  be  matter  of  general  joy,  since  it  is  amiable  in 
itself.  So  it  is  in  human  governments ;  while  we  are 
innocent,  we  approve  of  the  conduct  of  our  magistrates 
in  inflicting  capital  punishment  upon  notorious  B'ialefac- 
tors,  though  the  malefactors  themselves  view  it  with 
horror.     But  to  proceed  : 

"Let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multitude  of  th*.  isles 
be  glad,"  that  the  divine  laws  reach  the  inner  mai,  and 
have  power  upon  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  men. 
Human  laws  can  only  smooth  our  external  conduct  at 
best,  but  the  heart  in  the  meantime  may  be  disloyal  and 
wicked.  Now  this  defect  is  supplied  by  the  laws  of  the 
King  of  heaven,  Avhich  are  spiritual.  They  require  a 
complete  uniformity  and  self-consistency  in  us,  that  heart 
and  life  may  agree  :  and  therefore  they  are  wisely  fram- 
ed to  make  us  entirely  good.  They  have  also  an  inimi- 
table power  upon  the  consciences  of  men.  Should  all  the 
world  acquit  us,  yet  we  cannot  acquit  ourselves  when 
we  violate  them.  The  consciousness  of  a  crime  has 
made  many  a  hardy  offender  sweat  and  agonize  with  re- 
morse, though  no  human  eye  could  witness  to  his  offence. 
Nov/  what  cause  of  joy  is  it  that  these  laws  are  quick 
and  powerful,  and  that  they  are  attended  with  almighty 
energy,  which  in  some  measure  intimidates  and  restrains 
the  most  audacious,  and  inspires  the  conscientious  with 
a  pious  fear  of  offending  ! 

II.  The  Lord  reigneth  by  his  Providence.  "  Let  the 
earth  therefore  rejoice  ;  and  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be 
glad  thereof." 

The  Providence  of  God  is  well  described  in  our  short- 
er Catechism  :  "  It  is  his  most  holy,  wise,  and  powerful 
preserving  and  governing  all  his  creatures,  and  all  their 
actions."  To  particularize  all  the  instances  of  provi- 
dential government  which  may  be  matter  of  joy  to  the 
earth  would  be  endless,  therefore  I  shall  only  mention 
the  following : 

Let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  and  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be 
glad^  that  the  Lord  reigneth  over  the  kingdoms  of  the 
earth,  and  manages  all  their  affairs  according  to  his  sov- 
erei^'fn  and  wise  pleasure.  We  sometimes  hear  of  wars, 
and  rumors  of  wars,  of  thrones  tottering,  and  kingdoms 
fallmg,  of  the  nations  tumultuously  raging  and  dashing 
in  angry  conflict,  like  the  waves  of  the  boisterous  ocean. 


THE    JOV    OF    OUR    WORLD.  289 

In  s  ic:i  a  iuiicture  we  may  say,  "  The  floods  have  lifted 
up,  O  Lord,  the  floods  have  lifted  up  their  voice.  The 
floods  lift  up  their  waves.  But  the  Lord  reigneth,  there- 
fore the  world  shall  be  established  that  it  cannot  be 
moved. — The  Lord  on  high  is  mightier  than  the  noise  of 
many  waters  ;  yea,  than  the  mighty  waves  of  the  sea." 
Psalm  xciii.  Sometimes  the  ambition  of  foreign  power, 
or  the  encroachments  of  domestic  tyranny,  may  threaten 
our  liberties,  and  persecution  may  seem  ready  to  dis- 
charge  its  artillery  against  the  church  of  God,  while 
every  pious  heart  trembles  for  the  ark,  lest  it  should  be 
carried  into  the  land  of  its  enemies.  But  the  Lord 
reigneth  !  let  the  earth,  let  the  church  rejoice!  "the 
eternal  God  is  her  refuge,  and  underneath  her  are  the 
everlasting  arms."  Deut.  xxxiii.  27.  He  will  overrule 
the  various  revolutions  of  the  world  for  her  good  ;  he 
will  give  kings  for  her  ransom,  ^^^thiopia  and  Seba  for 
her  ;  and  the  united  powers  of  earth  and  hell  shall  not 
prevail  against  her.  Though  the  frame  of  nature  should 
be  unhinged,  we  may  find  refuge  in  our  God.  Yet  it 
must  be  owned,  that  the  Lord  for  the  chastisement  of  his 
people  may  sufTer  their  enemies  to  break  in  upon  them, 
and  may  cast  them  into  the  furnace  of  affliction.  But 
let  the  earth  rejoice,  let  the  church  be  glad  that  the  Lord 
reigneth  over  her  most  powerful  enemies,  and  that  they 
are  but  executing  his  will  even  when  they  have  no  regard 
to  it,  but  are  gratifying  their  own  ambition.  They  are 
but  a  rod  in  the  hand  of  a  tender  father,  who  corrects 
only  to  amend :  and  when  he  has  used  the  rod  for  this 
gracious  purpose,  he  will  then  lay  it  aside.  In  this  lan- 
guage the  Almighty  speaks  of  the  haughty  Assyrian 
monarch  who  had  pushed  his  conquest  so  far  and  wide. 
Isaiah  x.  5,  6,  7.  "  O  Assyrian,  the  rod  of  mine  anger," 
&c.  "I  will  give  him  my  commission,  and  send  him 
against  the  Jews,  my  favorite  people  ;  because  they  are 
degenerated  into  an  hypocritical  nation,  and  he  shall  ex- 
ecute my  orders."  "Howbeit,  he  meaneth  not  so;  it  is 
far  from  his  heart  to  obej^  my  will  in  this  expedition  ; 
but  his  only  design  is  to  aggrandize  himself,  and  to  des- 
troy and  cut  oft"  nations  not  a  few."  And  when  this  in- 
strument of  the  divine  vengeance  arrogates  to  himself  the 
honor  of  his  own  successes,  with  what  just  insult  and 
disdain  does  the  King  o^  kings  speak  of  him  !  ver.  12— 
25 


290  THE    DIVINE    GOVERNMENT 

15.  "  Shall  the  axe  boast  itself  against  him  that  heweth 
therewith  1  As  if  the  rod  should  shake  itself  against 
him  that  lifteth  it  up,"  &c.  The  design  of  God  in  these 
chastisements  is  to  }3urge  away  the  iniquity  of  his  peo- 
ple ;  and  this  is  all  the  fruit  of  them  to  take  away  their 
sin ;  and  when  this  gracious  design  is  answered,  they 
shall  be  removed  ;  "  and  the  rod  of  the  wicked  shall  not 
always  lie  upon  the  lot  of  the  righteous."  Psalm  cxxv. 
3.  Now  what  cause  of  universal  joy  is  this,  that  One 
infinitely  wise  sits  at  the  helm,  and  can  steer  the  feeble 
vessel  of  his  church  through  all  the  outrageous  storms 
of  this  unfriendly  climate  and  tempestuous  ocean  !  He 
may  seem  at  times  to  lie  asleep,  but  in  the  article  of  ex- 
treme danger  he  will  awake  and  still  the  winds  and  the 
sea  witn  his  sovereign  mandate,  Peace^  be  still.  Men 
may  form  deep  and  politic  schemes,  and  purpose  their 
accomplishment  in  defiance  of  Heaven,  "but  God  disap- 
pointeth  the  devices  of  the  crafty,  so  that  their  hands 
cannot  perform  their  enterprise.  He  taketh  the  wise  in 
their  ovrn  craftiness,  and  the  counsel  of  the  froward  is 
carried  headlong."  Job  v.  12,  13.  This  was  exemplified 
in  the  case  of  Ahithophel,  2  Sam.  xvii.  14.  The  hearts 
of  men,  yea  of  kings,  "  are  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  and 
he  turneth  them  whithersoever  he  will."  Prov.  xx.  1,  (see 
aiso  chap.  xvi.  1.  9.  and  xix.  21.)  And  how  joyful  a 
thought  this,  that  we  are  not  at  the  arbitrary  disposal  of 
our  fellow-mortals,  and  that  affairs  are  not  managed  ac- 
cording to  their  capricious  pleasure,  but  that  our  God  is? 
in  heaven,  and  doth  whatsoever  he  pleaseth !  Ps.  cxv.  3 
Again,  the  church  may  be  endangered  by  intestine 
divisions  and  offences.  The  professors  of  religion  may 
stumble  and  fall,  and  so  wound  the  hearts  of  the  friends 
of  Zion,  and  give  matter  of  triumph  and  insult  to  it? 
enemies.  Some  may  apostatize,  and  return  like  the  dog 
to  his  vomit.  A  general  lukewarmness  may  difiuse  it 
self  through  the  church,  and  even  those  who  retain  their 
integrity  in  the  main  may  feel  the  contagion.  Divisions 
and  animosities  may  be  inflamed,  mutual  love  may  be 
extinguished,  and  a  spirit  of  discord  succeed  in  its  place. 
A  most  melancholy  case  this,  and  too  much  like  our 
own :  and  our  hearts  sink  at  times  beneath  the  burden 
But  the  Lo7d  reigneth  ;  let  the  earth  be  glad.  He  can  re- 
duce this  confusion   into  order,  and  make  the  wrath  of 


THE    JO  if    OF    OUR    WORLD.  291 

man  to  praise  him,  and  restrain  the  remainder  of  it :  Ps. 
Ixxvi.  10.  It  is  the  peculiarity  of  divine  wisdom  to  educe 
good  out  of  evil,  and  let  r.s  rejoice  in  it.  God  is  su- 
preme, and  therefore  can  control  all  the  wicked  passions 
of  the  mind.  He  has  the  residue  of  the  Spirit,  and  can 
rekindle  the  languishino;  flame  of  devotion.  And  O  let 
us  apply  to  him  with  the  most  vigorous  and  unwearied 
importunity  for  so  necessary  a  blessing ! 

Again,  we  are  exposed  to  numberless  accidental  and 
unforeseen  dangers,  which  we  cannot  prevent  nor  en- 
counter. Sickness  and  death  may  proceed  from  a  thou- 
sand unsuspected  causes.  Our  friends,  our  estates,  and, 
m  short,  all  our  earthly  enjoyments,  maybe  torn  from  us 
by  a  variety  of  accidents.  We  w^alk,  as  it  were,  in  the 
dark,  and  may  tread  on  remediless  dangers  ere  w^e  are 
aware.  But  the  Lord  reigneth  ;  let  the  earth  be  glad! 
contingent  events  are  at  his  disposal,  and  necessity  at 
his  control.  The  smallest  things  are  not  beneath  the 
notice  of  his  providence,  and  the  greatest  are  not  above 
it.  Diseases  and  misfortunes  that  seem  to  happen  by 
chance,  are  commissioned  by  the  Lord  of  all ;  and  they 
that  result  evidently  from  natural  causes  are  sent  by  his 
almighty  will.  He  says  to  one  go,  and  it  goeth  ;  and  to 
another  come,  and  it  cometh  :  he  orders  the  devastations 
that  are  made  by  the  most  outrageous  elements.  If 
flames  lay  our  houses  in  ashes,  they  are  kindled  by  his 
breath.  If  hurricanes  sweep  through  our  land,  and  carry 
desolation  along  with  them,  they  perform  his  will,  and 
can  do  nothing  beyond  it :  his  hand  hurls  the  thunder, 
and  directs  it  where  to  strike.  An  arrow  or  a  bullet 
shot  at  a  venture  in  the  heat  of  battle  is  carried  to  its 
mark  by  divine  direction.  How  wretched  a  world  would 
this  be  were  it  not  under  the  wise  management  of  divine 
Providence !  If  chance  or  blind  fate  were  its  rulers, 
what  desolations  would  crowd  upon  us  every  moment ! 
we  should  soon  be  crushed  in  the  ruins  of  a  fallen  world. 
Every  wind  that  blows  might  blast  us  with  death,  and 
fire  and  water  would  mingle  in  a  blended  chaos,  and  bury 
us  in  their  destruction.  But  so  extensive  is  the  care  of 
Providence,  that  even  the  sparrows  may  find  safety  in 
it ;  and  we  cannot  lose  so  much  as  a  hair  of  our  heads 
without  its  permission:  Matt.  x.  29,  30,  31.     And  how 


292  THE    DiVLXE    GOVERNMENT 

much  more  then  are  our  persons  and  our  affairs  of  im- 
portance under  its  guardianship  and  direction  ! 

Again,  we  are  in  perpetual  danger  from  the  malignant 
agency  of  infernal  spirits,  who  watch  all  opportunities  to 
ruin  the  souls,  bodies,  and  estates  of  men.  These  subtle 
spirits  can  inject  ensnaring  thoughts  into  our  minds,  and 
present  such  images  to  the  fancy  as  may  allure  the  soul 
to  sin.  This  is  repeatedly  asserted  in  scripture,  and  at- 
tested by  the  melancholy  experience  of  multitudes  in  all 
ages.  That  they  hav-e  power  also  in  the  material  world 
to  raise  storms  and  tempests,  and  to  ruin  men's  estates, 
and  inflict  diseases  on  their  bodies,  is  plain  from  the  case 
of  Job,  and  many  in  our  Savior's  time,  and  from  Satan's 
being  called  the  'prince  of  the  power  of  the  air  ;  and  his 
associates  spiritual  wickednesses  in  hi^h  places.  And  what 
horrid  devastations  would  these  powerful  and  malicious 
beings  spread  through  the  world  if  they  were  not  under 
the  control  of  divine  Providence !  They  would  perpetuahy 
haunt  our  minds  with  ensnaring  or  terrifying  images  ; 
would  meet  us  with  temptations  at  every  turn,  and  lead 
us  willing  captives  to  hell.  They  v/ould  also  strip  us 
entirely  of  all  temporal  enjoyments,  torture  our  bodies 
with  grievous  pains,  or  moulder  them  into  dust  with  con- 
suming and  loathsome  diseases.  But  the  Lord  reigjieth  ; 
Itt  the  earth  be  glad.  He  keeps  the  infernal  lions  in  chains, 
and  restrains  their  rage.  He  sees  all  their  subtle  plots 
and  machinations  against  his  feeble  sheep,  and  baffles 
them  all.  "  He  will  not  suffer  his  people  to  be  tempted 
above  what  they  are  able  to  bear  ;  but  with  the  tempta- 
tion will  also  make  a  way  to  escape :  1  Cor.  x.  13.  And 
when  he  suffers  them  to  be  buffeted,  his  grace  shall  be 
suflicient  for  them,  &c. :  2  Cor.  xii.  7,  9.  He  hath  also 
(as  Satan  himself  confessed  with  regard  to  Job)  made 
a  hedge  about  us,  about  our  houses,  and  about  all  that 
we  have  on  every  side  :  Job  i.  10  ;  and  hence  we  live 
and  enjoy  the  blessings  of  life.  What  cause  of  grateful 
joy  is  this  !  Who  would  not  rather  die  than  live  in  a 
world  ungoverned  by  divine  Providence  1  This  earth 
would  soon  be  turned  into  a  hell,  if  the  infernal  armies 
were  let  loose  upon  it. 

III.  The  Lord  reigneth  upon  a  throne  of  grace  !  "  Let 
the  earth  rejoice,  and  the  multitude  of  the  isles  be  glad." 

It  is  the  mediatorial  government  of  the  Messiah  which 


THE    JOY    OF    THE    WORLD.  293 

the  Psalmist  had  more  immediately  in  view  ;  and  this  is 
the  principal  cause  of  joy  to  the  earth  and  its  guilty  in- 
habitants. This  is  a  kind  of  government  peculiar  to 
the  human  race ;  the  upright  angels  do  not  need  it, 
and  the  fallen  angels  are  not  favoured  with  it.  This  is 
invested  in  the  person  of  Immanuel,  "  who  is  made  head 
over  all  things  to  his  church,"  Eph.  i.  22,  "  to  whom  all 
power  in  heaven  and  earth  is  given,"  Matt.  xi.  27.  and 
xxviii.  18.  This  is  the  kingdom  described  in  such  au- 
gust language  in  Dan.  ii.  ver.  44,  45,  and  vii.  14.  Luke 
i.  32,  33.  Hence  that  Jesus  who  was  mocked  with  a 
crown  of  thorns,  and  condemned  as  a  criminal  at  Pilate's 
bar,  wears  on  his  vesture  and  on  his  thigh  this  majestic 
inscription,  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords.  Rev.  xix. 
16.  And  behold  I  bring  you  glad  tidings  ;  this  kingdom 
ot  God  is  come  unto  you,  and  you  are  called  to  become 
its  subjects,  and  share  in  its  blessings.  Wherever  the 
gospel  is  preached,  there  Jehovah  sits  upon  a  mercy-seat 
in  majesty  tempered  with  condescending  grace.  From 
thence  he  invites  rebels  that  had  rejected  his  govern- 
ment to  return  to  their  allegiance,  and  passes  an  act  of 
grace  upon  all  that  comply  with  the  invitation.  To  his 
throne  of  grace  he  invites  all  to  come,  and  offers  them 
the  richest  blessings.  From  thence  he  publishes  peace 
on  earth,  and  good  v/ill  towards  men.  From  thence  he 
offers  pardon  to  all  that  will  submit  to  his  government, 
and  renounce  their  sins,  those  weapons  of  rebellion. 
From  thence  he  distributes  the  influences  of  his  Spirit 
to  subdue  obstinate  hearts  into  cheerful  submission,  to 
support  his  subjects  under  every  burden,  and  furnish 
them  with  strength  for  the  spiritual  warfare.  He  sub- 
dues their  rebellious  corruptions,  animates  their  languish- 
ing graces,  and  protects  them  from  their  spiritual  ene- 
mies.* He  enacts  laws  for  the  regulation  of  his  church, 
appoints  ordinances  for  her  edification,  and  qualifies  minis- 
ters to  dispense  them.  He  hath  ascended  upon  high  ;  he 
hath  received  gifts  for  men  ;  and  these  he  hath  distribut- 
ed, and  given  "  some  prophets  ;  and  some  apostles  :  and 
some  evangelists  ;  and  some  pastors  and  teachers  ;  for 
the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the  work  of  the  ministry, 
for  the  edifying  of  the  body  of  Christ,"    Eph.  iv.  8.  11, 

•  See  his  rei^n  most  beautifully  described  under  the  type  of  Solomon, 
Psalm  Ixxii. 

25* 


294'  THE    DiriNE    GOVERNMENT 

12.  And  it  is  by  virtue  of  authority  derived  from  him, 
that  his  ministers  now  officiate,  and  you  receive  his  ordi- 
nances at  their  hands.  Now  how  happy  are  we,  that  we 
live  under  the  mediatorial  administration  I  under  the  em- 
pire of  grace  ! — Let  the  earth  rejoice  ;  let  the  multitude  of 
the  isles  he'glad  upon  this  account.  And  let  us  pray  that 
all  nations  may  become  the  willing  subjects  of  our  gra- 
cious Sovereign.  If  this  administration  of  grace  had  not 
j'-et  been  erected,  in  what  a  miserable  situation  should 
we  have  been  !  guilty,  miserable,  and  hopeless  !  Let  us 
rejoice  that  the  King  of  heaven,  from  whom  we  had  re- 
volted, has  not  suffered  us  to  perish  without  remedy  in 
our  unnatural  rebellion,  but  holds  out  the  sceptre  of  his 
grace  to  us,  that  we  may  touch  it  and  live. 

IV.  And  lastly,  the  Lord  will  reign  ere  long  upon  a 
throne  of  universal  judgment,  conspicuous  to  the  assem- 
bled universe.  "  Let  the  earth  therefore  rejoice^  and  the 
multitude  of  the  isles  he  glad.''' 

Here  I  may  borrow  the  inimitable  language  of  the 
Psalmist,  Ps.  xcvi.  10.  13.  "  The  Lord  shall  judge  the 
people  righteously.  Let  the  heavens  rejoice,  and  let  the 
earth  be  glad:  let  the  sea  roar,  and  the  fulness  thereof: 
let  the  fields  be  joyful,  and  all  that  is  therein  ;  then  shall 
all  the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice  before  the  Lord,  for  he 
cometh  !  for  he  cometh  to  judge  the  earth.  He  shall 
judge  the  world  with  righteousness  and  the  people  with 
his  truth."  This  will  indeed  be  a  day  of  insupportable 
terror  to  his  enemies.  Rev.  vi.  15,  16,  but,  on  many  ac 
counts,  it  will  prove  a  day  of  joy  and  triumph. 

This  day  will  unfold  all  the  mysteries  of  divine  Provi- 
dence which  are  now  unsearchable.  There  are  many 
dispensations  now  for  which  we  cannot  account.  Many 
blessings  are  bestowed,  many  calamities  fall,  and  many 
events  happen,  of  which  mortals  cannot  see  the  reason. 
Prosperity  is  the  lot  of  some  who  seem  the  peculiar  ob- 
jects of  divine  vengeance  ;  and  many  groan  under  af- 
flictions who  seem  more  proper  objects  of  providential 
beneficence.  We  arc  often  led  into  ways  the  end  of 
which  we  cannot  see,  and  are  bewildered  in  various  per- 
plexities about  the  designs  of  divine  Providence  towards 
us.  Hence  also  impiety  takes  occasion  to  cavil  at  the 
ways  of  God  as  not  equal,  and  to  censure  his  govern- 
ment as  weakly  administered.     But  in  that  day    all  his 


THE    JOY    OF    OUR    WORLD.  295 

ways  will  appear  to  be  judgment.  The  clouds  and  dark- 
ness that  now  surround  them  will  vanish,  and  the  beams 
of  wisdom,  goodness,  and  justice,  shall  shine  illustrious 
before  the  whole  universe,  and  every  creature  shall  join 
the  plaudit,  He  hath  done  all  things  ivcll  I  Now  we  can 
at  best  but  see  a  few  links  in  the  chain  of  providence, 
but  then  we  shall  see  it  all  entire  and  complete  5  then  the 
w^hole  system  will  be  exposed  to  view  at  once,  which 
will  discover  the  strange  symmetry,  connections,  depend- 
encies, and  references  of  all  the  parts,  v.ilhout  which  we 
can  no  more  judge  of  the  excellency  of  the  procedure 
than  a  rustic  could  tell  the  use  of  the  several  parts  of  a 
watch,  if  he  saw  them  scattered  in  various  places.  Let 
the  earth  therefore  be  glad  in  expectation  of  this  glori- 
ous discovery. 

Again,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the  pre- 
sent unequal  distributions  of  Providence  will  be  for  ever 
adjusted,  and  regulated  according  to  the  strictest  justice. 
This  is  not  the  place  or  season  for  retribution,  and  there- 
fore we  need  not  be  surprised  that  the  blessings  and  ca- 
lamities of  this  life  are  not  disposed  according  to  men's 
real  characters  ;  but  then  every  man  shall  be  dealt  with 
according  to  his  works.  Oppressed  innocence  will  be 
redressed,  and  insolence  for  ever  mortified:  calumny 
will  be  confuted,  and  flattery  exposed  :  Lazarus  shall  be 
comforted,  Dives  tormented :  impious  kings  shall  be 
driven  into  the  infernal  pit,  while  pious  beggars  shall  oe 
advanced  to  the  heights  of  happiness.  In  short,  all  mat- 
ters will  then  be  set  right,  and  therefore  let  the  earth  re- 
joice. 

Again,  let  the  earth  rejoice  that  in  that  day  the  right- 
eous shall  be  completely  delivered  from  all  sin  and  sor- 
row, and  advanced  to  the  perfection  of  heavenly  happi- 
ness. Then  they  shall  enter  upon  the  full  fruition  of 
that  bliss,  which  is  now  the  object  of  all  their  anxious 
hopes  and  earnest  labors. 

But  we  must  change  the  scene  into  tragedy,  and  take 
a  view  of  the  trembling  criminals  hearing  their  dreadful 
doom,  and  sinking  to  hell  with  horrible  anguish.  And 
must  the  earth  rejoice  in  this  too  1  Yes,  but  Avith  a 
solemn,  tremendous  joy.  Even  the  condemnation  and 
everlasting  misery  of  these  is  right  and  just,  is  amiable 
and  glorious  ;  and   God,  angels   and   saints,  will   at  the 


1296      THE  DIVINE  GOVERNMENT  THE  JOY  OF  OUR   WORLD. 

great  day  rejoice  in  it.  The  awful  grandeur  of  justice 
will  be  illustrated  in  it ;  and  this  is  matter  of  joy.  The 
punishment  of  irreclaimable  im penitents  will  be  an  ef- 
fectual warning  to  all  reasonable  beings,  and  to  all  future 
creations,  as  has  been  observed ;  and  by  it  they  will  be 
deterred  from  disobedience  ;  and  this  is  the  cause  of 
joy.  These  criminals  will  then  be  beyond  repentance 
and  reformation,  and  therefore  it  is  impossible  in  the  na- 
ture of  things  they  should  be  happy  ;  and  why  then 
should  Heaven  be  encumbered  Avith  them  1  Is  it  not 
cause  of  joy  that  they  should  be  confined  in  prison  who 
have  made  themselves  unfit  for  society  1  In  the  present 
state  sinners  are  objects  of  our  compassion  and  sorrow, 
and  the  whole  creation  mourns  for  them.  Rom.  viii.  22. 
But  God  will  then  rejoice  in  their  ruin,  and  laugh  at 
their  calamity,  Prov.  i.  26 ;  and  all  dutiful  creatures  wiF 
join  in  his  joy. 

Thus  you  see  that  the  Lord  reigneth.  And  Vv'ho,  poor 
feeble  saints,  who  is  this  that  sustains  this  universal  gov 
ernment,  and  rules  the  whole  creation  according  to  his 
pleasure  1  It  is  your  Father,  your  Savior,  your  Friend  ! 
It  is  he  that  entertains  a  tenderer  regard  for  you  than 
ever  glowed  in  a  human  breaet.  And  can  you  be  so 
foolish  as  to  regard  the  surmises  of  unbelief?  Can  you 
force  yourselves  to  fear  that  he  v/ill  ever  leave  or  for- 
sake you  1  Can  you  suspect  that  he  will  suffer  you  to 
fall  a  helpless  prey  to  your  enemies  1  No,  your  Lord 
reigneth,  therefore  rejoice.  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway  ; 
and  again  I  say  rejoice.  While  he  keeps  the  throne  of 
the  universe,  you  shall  be  safe  and  happy.  Your  Father 
is  greater  than  all,  and  none  can  pluck  you  out  of  his 
hands.  Remember,  he  sits  upon  a  throne  of  grace, 
therefore  come  to  him  with  boldness.  You  may  smile 
at  calamity  and  confusion,  and  rejoice  amid  the  ruins  of 
the  world ;  you  may  borrow  the  language  of  David, 
Psalm  xlv. ;  or  of  Habakkuk,  chap.  iii.  ver.  17,  18.  Re- 
member also,  that,  as  he  is  a  king,  he  demands  your 
cheerful  obedience,  and  therefore  make  his  service  the 
business  of  your  life. 

And,  unhappy  sinners !  let  me  ask  you.  Who  is  this 
that  reigns  King  of  the  universe  1  Why,  it  is  he  whom 
you  have  rejected  from  being  King  over  you ;  it  is  he 
against  whom  you  l:nve  rebelled,  and  who  is  therefore 


THE    NABIE    OF    GOD    I'ROCLAIIMEIJ    BY    HIMSELF.  297 

your  just  enemy.  And  are  you  able  to  make  good  your 
cause  against  him  who  has  universal  nature  at  his  nodi 
How  dreadful  is  your  situation  !  That  which  may  make 
the  earth  rejoice,  may  make  you  fear  and  tremble.  The 
Lord  reigneth,  let  sinners  tremble.  You  must  fall  be- 
fore him,  if  you  will  not  cheerfully  submit  to  his  govern- 
ment. Let  me  therefore  renew  the  usual  neglected  de- 
claration, "  He  sits  upon  a  throne  of  grace."  Let  me  once 
more  in  his  name  proclaim  reconciliation !  reconciliation ! ! 
in  your  ears,  and  invite  you  to  return  to  your  allegiance. 
Lay  down  your  arms,  forsake  your  sins.  Hasten,  hasten 
to  him.  The  sword  of  his  justice  now  hangs  over  your 
heads,  while  I  am  managing  the  treaty  with  you  ;  and 
therefore  delay  not.  Yield  ;  yield,  or  die  ;  surrender, 
or  perish;  for  you  have  no  other  alternative.  Submit, 
and  you  may  join  the  general  joy  at  his  government. 
You  upon  earth,  and  devils  and  damned  ghosts  in  hell, 
are  the  only  beings  that  are  sorry  for  it  ;  but  upon 
your  submission  your  sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy, 
and  you  shall  exult  "  when  the  Lord  of  all  comes  to 
judge  the  world  with  righteousness,  and  the  people  with 
his  truth."  Psalm  xcvi.  13. 


SERMON  XVIL 

THE    KAME    OF    GOD    PROCLAIMED    BY    HIMSELF. 

ExoD.  XXXIII.  18,  19. — Jlnd  he  said^  I  beseech  thee,  show  me 
thy  glory.  Jlnd  he  said,  I  will  make  all  my  goodness 
pass  before  thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord 
before  thee. — 

WITH 

Chap  xxxiv.  6,  7. — ^nd  the  Lord  passed  by  before  him, 
and  proclaimed.  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and 
gracious,  long-suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and 
truth  ;  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  or  giving  iniquity, 
and  transgression,  and  sin,  and  thai  will  by  no  means 
clear  the  guilty 

It  is  a' very  natural  and  proper  inquiry  I'or  a  creature, 
"  'W  here  is  God   my  Maker  1"     And  a  heart  that  lovei 


298  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

him  must  long  to  know  more  of  him,  and  is  ever  ready  to 
join  with  Moses  in  his  petition,  Show  77?e,  I  pray  thee,  thy 
glory  ;  or,  "  Reveal  thyself  to  me."  That  thou  art,  I  in- 
fer from  my  owti  existence,  and  from  thy  numerous 
works  all  around  me  ;  and  that  thou  art  glorious,  1  learn 
from  the  display  of  thy  perfections  in  thy  vast  creation, 
and  in  the  government  of  the  world  thou  hast  made. 
But,  alas  !  how  small  a  portion  of  God  is  known  in  the 
earth !  How  faintly  does  thy  glory  shine  in  the  feeble 
eyes  of  mortals.  My  knowledge  of  things  in  the  pre 
sent  state  of  flesh  and  blood  depends  in  a  great  measure* 
upon  the  senses  ;  but  God  is  a  spirit  invisible  to  eyes  of 
flesh,  and  imperceptible  through  the  gross  medium  of 
sensation.  How  and  when  shall  I  know  thee  as  thou  art, 
thou  great,  thou  dear  unknouTii  1  In  what  a  strange  situ- 
ation am  1 !  I  am  surrounded  with  thy  omnipresence,  yet 
I  cannot  perceive  thee  :  thou  art  as  near  me  as  I  am  to 
myself;  "thou  knowest  my  rising  up  and  my  sitting 
down  ;  thou  understandest  my  thoughts  afar  ofl";  thou 
penetratest  my  very  essence,  and  knowest  me  altogeth- 
er." Psalm  cxxxix.  2,  dec.  But  to  me  thou  dwellest  in 
impervious  darkness,  or  which  is  the  same,  in  light  inac- 
cessible. "  O  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  him !  Be- 
hold, 1  go  forward,  but  he  is  not  there  ;  and  backward, 
but  I  cannot  perceive  him :  on  the  left  hand,  Avhere  he 
doth  work,  but  I  cannot  behold  him  :  he  hideth  himself 
on  the  right  hand,  that  I  cannot  see  him."  Job  xxiii.  3. 
8,  9.  I  see  his  perfections  beaming  upon  me  from  all  his 
works,  and  his  providence  ever-active,  ruling  the  vast 
universe,  and  diffusing  life,  motion,  and  vigor  through 
the  whole  :  the  virtue  of  his  wisdom,  power  and  good- 
ness, 

Warms  in  the  sun,  refreshes  in  the  breeze  ; 
Glows  in  the  stars,  and  blossoms  in  the  trees  ; 
Lives  in  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent ; 
Spreads  undivided,  operates  unspent ; 
Inspires  our  soul,  informs  our  vital  part. — Pope. 

But  where  is  the  great  Agent  himself  1  These  are  liis« 
works,  and  they  are  glorious  :  "  in  wisdom  has  he 
made  them  all,"  but  where  is  the  divine  Artificer  1 
From  these  displays  of  his  glory,  which  strike  my 
senses,  I  derive  some  ideas  of  him  ;  but  O !  liow  faint 
and  glimmering  !  how  unlike  to  the  all-perfect  Arch«> 


PHOCI  AIMED    BV    HIMSELF.  299 

type  and  Original  !  I  have  also  heard  of  him  by  the 
hearing  of  the  ear  ;  I  read  his  own  descriptions  of  him- 
self in  his  word  ;  I  contemplate  the  representations  he 
has  given  of  himself  in  his  ordinances  ;  and  these  are 
truly  glorious,  but  they  are  adapted  to  the  dark  and 
grovelling  minds  of  mortals  in  this  obscure  region,  and 
fall  infinitely  short  of  the  original  glory.  I  can  think  of 
him  ;  I  can  love  him  ;  I  can  converse  and  carry  on  a 
spiritual  intercourse  with  him  ;  I  feel  him  working  in 
my  heart ;  I  receive  sensible  communications  of  love  and 
grace  from  him  ;  I  dwell  at  times  with  unknown  delight 
:^'n  the  contemplation  of  his  glory,  and  am  transported 
with  the  survey :  but,  alas !  I  cannot  fully  know  him ;  I 
cannot  dive  deep  into  this  mystery  of  glory  ;  my  senses 
cannot  perceive  him  ;  and  my  intellectual  powers  in  the 
present  state  are  not  qualified,  to  converse  with  spiritual 
objects,  and  form  a  full  acquaintance  with  them.  O  !  if 
it  would  please  my  God  to  show  me  his  glory  in  its  full 
lustre !  0  that  he  would  reveal  himself  to  me  so  that 
my  senses  may  assist  my  mind  ;  if  such  a  manner  of 
revelation  be  possible ! 

Such  thoughts  as  these  may  naturally  rise  in  our 
minds ;  and  probably  some  such  thoughts  possessed  the 
mind  of  Moses,  and  were  the  occasion  of  his  request,  / 
beseech  thee  show  me  thy  glory. 

These  chapters,  whence  we  have  taken  our  subject  of 
discourse,  present  us  with  transactions  that  must  seem 
very  strange  and  incredible  to  a  mind  that  knows  noth- 
ing of  communion  with  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  that  is 
furnished  only  with  modern  ideas. 

Here  is,  not  an  angel,  but  a  man  ;  not  a  creature  only, 
but  a  sinner,  a  sinner  once  depraved  as  ourselves,  in  in- 
timate audience  will  the  Deity.  Jehovah  speaks  to  him 
face  to  face,  as  a  /nan  speaketh  to  his  friend.  Moses  uses 
his  interest  in  favor  of  a  rebellious  people,  and  it  was  so 
great  that  he  prevailed :  nay,  to  show  the  force  of  his 
intercessions,  and  to  give  him  an  encouragement  to  use 
them,  God  condescends  to  represent  himself  as  restrain- 
ed by  this  importunate  petitioner,  and  unable  to  punish 
the  ungrateful  Israelites,  while  Moses  pleaded  for  them, 
"  Let  me  alone,"  says  he,  "  that  my  wrath  may  wax  hot 
against  this  people,  that  I  may  consume  them."  Exod. 
xxxii.  10.      Moses  urges  petition  upon  petition  ;  and  he 


300  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

obtains  blessing  upon  blessing,  as  though  God  could 
deny  nothing  to  such  a  favorite.  He  first  deprecates  the 
divine  wrath,  that  it  might  not  immediately  break  out 
upon  the  Israelites,  and  cut  them  off,  verses  11 — 14. 
When  he  has  gained  this  point,  he  advances  farther,  and 
pleads  that  God  would  be  their  Conductor  through  the 
wilderness,  as  he  had  been  till  that  time,  and  lead  them 
into  the  promised  land.  In  this  article  God  seems  to 
put  him  off,  and  to  devolve  the  work  of  conducting  them 
upon  himself;  but  Moses,  sensible  that  he  was  not  equal 
to  it,  insists  upon  the  request,  and  v/ith  a  sacred  dex- 
terity urges  the  divine  promises  to  enforce  it.  Jehovah  at 
length  appears,  as  it  were,  partly  prevailed  upon,  and  pre- 
mises to  send  his  angel  before  him  as  his  guide.  Chap. 
xxxii.  34,  and  xxxiii.  2.  But,  alas  !  an  angel  cannot  fill  up 
his  place  ;  and  Moses  renews  his  petition  to  the  Lord, 
and  humbly  tells  him  that  he  had  rather  stay,  or  even  die 
where  they  were  in  the  wilderness,  than  go  up  to  the 
promised  land  without  him.  Jf  th^j  presence  go  not  with 
me,  carry  us  up  not  henze^  chap,  xxxiii.  15.  "  Alas  !  the 
company  of  an  angel,  and  the  possession  of  a  land  flow- 
ing with  milk  and  honey,  will  not  satisfy  us  without  thy- 
self." His  prayers  prevail  for  this  blessing  also,  and 
Jehovah  will  not  deny  him  anything.  O  the  surprising 
prevalency  of  faith  !  O  the  efficacy  of  the  fervent  prayer 
of  a  righteous  m"n  ! 

And  now,  when  his  people  are  restored  unto  the 
divine  favor,  and  God  has  engaged  to  go  with  them,  has 
Moses  anything  more  to  ask  ?  Yes,  he  found  he  had 
indeed  great  interest  with  God,  and  0  !  he  loved  him, 
and  longed,  and  languished  for  a  clearer  knowledge  of 
him  ;  he  found  that  after  all  his  friendly  interviews  and 
conferences  he  knew  but  little  of  his  glory  \  and  now, 
thought  he,  it  is  a  proper  time  to  put  in  a  petition  for 
this  manifestation  ;  who  knows  but  it  may  be  granted  I 
Accordingly  he  prays  with  a  mixture  of  filial  boldness 
and  trembling  modesty,  /  beseech  thee^  show  me  thy  glory  ; 
that  is  to  say,  "  Now  I  am  in  converse  with  thee,  I  per- 
ceive thou  art  the  most  glorious  of  all  beings  ;  but  it  is 
but  little  of  thy  glory  I  as  yet  know.  0  !  is  it  possible 
for  a  guilty  mortal  to  receive  clearer  discoveries  of  it  I 
If  so,  I  pray  thee  favor  me  with  a  more  full  and  bright 
view."     This   petition  is   also    granted,    and  the    Lord 


PROCLAIMED    BY    HIMSELF.  30] 

promises  him,  "  I  will  make  all  my  goodness  pass  before 
thee,  and  I  will  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord  before 
thee." 

That  you  may  the  better  understand  this  strange  his- 
tory, 1  would  have  you  observe  a  few  things. 

1st,  In  the  earliest  ages  of  the  world,  it  was  a  very 
common  thing  for  God  to  assume  some  visible  form,  and 
in  it  to  converse  freely  with  his  servants.  Of  this  you 
frequently  read  in  the  history  of  the  patriarchs,  particu- 
larly of  Adam,  Abraham,  Jacob,  &c.  It  is  also  a  tradition 
almost  universally  received  in  all  ages,  and  among  all 
nations,  that  God  has  sometimes  appeared  in  a  sensible 
form  to  mortals.  You  can  hardly  meet  with  one  hea- 
then writer  but  that  you  will  find  in  him  some  traces  of 
this  tradition.  Upon  this,  in  particular,  are  founded  the 
many  extravagant  stories  of  the  poets  concerning  the 
appearances  of  their  gods.  Had  there  been  no  original 
truth  in  some  appearances  of  the  true  God  to  men,  there 
would  have  been  no  color  for  such  fables ;  for  they 
would  have  evidently  appeared  groundless  and  unnatural 
to  every  reader.  This  tradition  therefore  was  no  doubt 
originally  derived  from  the  appearances  of  the  Deity,  in  a 
corporeal  form,  in  early  ages.*  Sometimes  God  assumed 
a  human  shape,  and  appeared  as  a  man.  Thus  he  ap- 
peared to  Abraham,  in  company  with  two  angels.  Gen. 
X  viii.  and  that  good  patriarch  entertained  them  with  food 
a  1  travelers  ;  yet  one  of  them  is  repeatedly  styled  the 
Lord,  or  Jehovah,  the  incommunicable  name  of  God  ; 
see  verses  13,  20,  22,  26,  &;c.,  and  speaks  in  a  language 
proper  to  him  only,  verses  14,  21,  &;c.  Sometimes  he 
appeared  as  a  visible  brightness,  or  a  body  of  light,  or  in 
some  other  sensible  form  of  majesty  and  glory.  Thus 
he  was  seen  by  Moses  in  the  bush  as  a  burning  fire  ; 
thus  he  attended  the  Israelites  through  the  wilderness, 
in  the  symbol  of  fire  by  night,  and  a  cloud   by  day  ; 

*  These  appearances  were  probably  made  in  the  person  of  the  Son, 
and  might  be  intended  as  a  prelude  or  earnest  jl'his  assuming  human  na- 
ture in  the  fulness  of  time,  and  his  dwelling  among  mortals.  He  was  the 
immediate  Agent  in  the  creation  of  the  world  ;  and  the  Father  devolved 
upon  him  the  whole  economy  of  Providence  from  the  beginning ;  and 
hence  he  had  frequent  occasions  to  appear  on  some  grand  design.  It  can- 
not seem  incredible  that  he  should  thfis  assume  some  visible  form  to  such 
as  believe  that  God  was  at  length  really  manifested  in  tfie  flesh;  for  this 
temporary  apparent  incarnation  cannot  be  deemed  more  strange  than  his 
really  being  made  flesh,  and  dicelling  among  us. 

26 


302  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

and  thus  he  often  appeared  in  the  tabernacle,  and  at  the 
dedication  of  Solomon's  temple,  in  some  sensible  form 
of  glorious  brightness,  which  the  Jews  called  the 
Shechinali  ,-  and  looked  upon  as  a  certain  symbol  of  the 
divine  presence. 

2dly,  You  are  to  observe  that  God,  who  is  a  spirit, 
cannot  be  perceived  by  the  senses  ;  nor  were  these  sen- 
sible forms  intended  to  represent  the  divine  essence, 
which  is  wholly  immaterial.  You  can  no  more  see  God 
than  you  can  see  your  o^\^l  soul ;  and  a  bodily  form  can 
no  more  represent  his  nature  than  shape  or  color  can 
represent  a  thought  or  the  affection  of  love.     Yet, 

3dly,  It  must  be  allowed  that  majestic  and  glorious  em- 
blems, or  representations  of  God  exhibited  to  the  sens- 
es, may  help  to  raise  our  ideas  of  him.  When  the  sens- 
es and  the  imagination  assist  the  power  of  pure  under- 
standing", its  ideas  are  more  lively  and  impressive  :  and 
though  no  sensible  representations  can  bear  any  strict  re- 
semblance to  the  divine  nature,  yet  they  may  strike  our 
minds  deeply,  and  fill  them  with  images  of  grandeur  and 
majesty.  When  I  see  a  magnificent  palace,  it  naturally 
tends  to  give  me  a  great  idea  of  the  owner  or  builder. 
The  retinue  and  pomp  of  kings,  their  glittering  crowns, 
sceptres,  and  other  regalia,  tend  to  inspire  us  with  ideas 
of  majesty.  In  like  manner  those  sensible  representa- 
tions of  Deity,  especially  when  attended  with  some  ra- 
tional descriptions  of  the  divine  nature,  may  help  us  to 
form  higher  conceptions  of  the  glory  of  God  :  and  the 
want  of  such  representations  may  occasion  less  rever- 
ence and  awe.  For  instance,  had  the  description  of  the 
Deity,  The  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  <S'c.,  been 
only  suggested  to  the  mind  of  Moses  as  an  object  of 
calm  contemplation,  it  Avould  not  have  struck  him  with 
such  profound  reverence,  nor  given  him  such  clear  or 
impressive  ideas  as  when  it  was  proclaimed  with  a  loud 
majestic  voice,  and  attended  with  a  visible  glory  too 
bright  for  mortal  eyes.  Human  nature  is  of  such  a  make, 
that  it  cannot  but  be  affected  with  things  of  this  nature. 

Consider  the  matter  well  in  the  light  in  which  I  have  set 
it,  and  you  may  see  something  of  the  propriety  and  good 
tendency  of  these  appearances,  and  at  the  same  time 
guard  yourselves  against  mistakes.     Let  me  now  give 


PROCLAIMED    BY    HIMSELF  303 

you  what  1  apprehend  the  true  history  of  this  remarka- 
ble and  illustrious  appearance  of  God  to  Moses. 

Moses  had  enjoyed  frequent  interviews  with  God,  and 
seen  many  symbols  of  his  presence  and  representations 
of  his  glory ;  but  he  still  finds  his  knowledg^e  of  him  very 
defective,  and  apprehends  that  God  might  give  him 
some  representation  of  his  glory  more  striking  and  illus- 
trious than  any  he  had  seen.  Therefore,  finding  that 
now  he  was  in  great  favor  with  him,  he  humbly  moves 
this  petition,  I  beseech  thee^  show  me  thy  glory  ;  "  give  me 
some  more  full  and  majestic  representations  of  thy  glory 
than  I  have  hitherto  seen."  The  Lord  answers  him,  "  I 
will  cause  all  my  goodness,"  that  is,  a  glorious,  visible 
representation  of  my  goodness,  which  is,  ''  my  glory,  to 
pass  before  thee,"  which  may  strike  thy  senses,  and  make 
them  the  medium  of  conveying  to  thy  mind  more  illus- 
trious and  majestic  ideas  of  my  glory.  And  as  no  sen- 
sible forms  can  fully  represent  the  spiritual  essence  and 
perfections  of  my  nature,  while  I  cause  a  visible  repre- 
sentation of  my  glory  to  pass  before  thee,  I  will  at  the 
same  time  proclaim  the  name  of  the  Lord,*  and  describe 
some  of  the  principal  perfections  that  constitute  my  glo- 
ry and  goodness.  But  so  bright  will  be  the  lustre  of 
that  form  which  I  shall  assume,  that  thou  art  not  able  to 
see  my  face,  or  the  most  splendid  part  of  the  representa- 
tion ;  the  glory  is  too  bright  to  be  beheld  by  any  mortal, 
ver.  20.  But  there  is  a  place  in  a  rock  where  thou 
mayest  wait,  and  I  will  cast  darkness  over  it  till  the 
brightest  part  of  the  form  of  glory  in  which  I  shall  ap- 
pear is  passed  by,  and  then  I  will  open  a  medium  of  light, 
and  thou  shalt  see  my  back  parts  ;  that  is,  those  parts 
of  the  representation  which  are  less  illustrious,  and  which 
pass  by  last :  the  glory  of  these  thou  shalt  be  enabled  to 
bear,  but  my  face  shall  not  be  seen."  ver.  2 — 23. 

Thus  God  condescended  to  promise  ;  and  when  mat- 
ters were  duly  prepared,  he  performs  his  engagement. 
The  Lord  assumed  a  visible  form  of  glory,  and  passed  by 
before  hirn^  and  proclaimed  his  name,  which  includes  his 

*  The  LXX  render  the  passage,  I  u-ill  call  by  my  name,  the  Lord  be- 
fore  thee.  And  this  is  the  most  literal  translation  of  the  Hebrew:  they 
are  rendered  Inclamabo  numinatim  Jehovah  ante  faciem  tuam,  by  Junius 
and  Tremellius.  According  tc  this  version  the  sense  seems  to  be, 
"  When  the  symbol  of  my  glory  is  passing  by,  I  will  give  thee  notice, 
and  call  by  my  name  the  Lord,  that  1  may  not  pass  by  unobserved." 


304f  THE    NiME    OF    GOD 

perfections.  Things  are  known  by  their  names,  and 
God  is  known  by  his  attributes,  therefore  his  name  in- 
cludes his  attributes.  The  prockimation  ran  in  this  au- 
gust style,  "  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gra- 
cious, long-suffering,  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth, 
keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  trans- 
gression, and  sin."  Moses  was  struck  with  reverence 
and  admiration,  and  bowed  and  worshiped. 

My  present  design  is  to  explain  the  several  names  and 
perfections  here  ascribed  to  God,  and  show  that  they  all 
concur  to  constitute  his  goodness.  For  you  must  ob- 
serve this  is  the  connection.  Moses  prays  for  a  view  of 
God's  glory.  God  promises  him  a  view  of  his  goodness, 
which  intimates  that  his  goodness  is  his  glory  ;  and  when 
he  describes  his  goodness,  what  is  the  description  1  It 
is  "  the  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long- 
suffering,  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth,  keeping*  mer- 
cy for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  transgression  and 
sin."  That  these  attributes  belong  to  his  goodness  we 
easily  and  naturally  conceive ;  but  what  shall  we  think 
of  his  punitive  justice,  that  awful  and  tremendous  attri- 
bute, the  object  of  terror  and  aversion  to  sinners  1  Is 
that  a  part  of  his  goodness  too  1  Yes,  \vhen  God  causes 
his  goodness  to  pass  before  Moses,  he  proclaims  as  one 
part  of  it,  that  "he  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty  ; 
and  that  he  visits  the  iniquities  of  the  fathers  upon  the 
children  to  the  third  and  fourth  generation."  This  aw- 
ful attribute  is  an  important  part  of  his  goodness,  and 
without  it  he  could  not  be  good,  amiable,  or  glorious. 

1  am  now  about  to  enter  upon  a  subject  the  most  sub- 
lime, august,  and  important,  that  can  come  within  the 
compass  of  human  or  angelic  minds,  the  name  and  per- 
fections of  the  infinite  and  ever-glorious  God.  I  attempt 
it  with  trembling  and  reverence,  and  I  foresee  I  shall 
finish  it  with  shame  and  confusion  :  for  "  who  by  search 
ing  can  find  out  God  1  who  can  find  out  the  Almighty 
unto  perfection  V  Job  xi.  7.  The  question  of  Agur 
mortifies  the  pride  of  human  knowledge  ;  "  What  is  his 
name,  or  what  is  his  Son's  name,  if  thou  canst  tell  1" 

*  The  Hebrews  observe,  ihat  ihe  first  letter  of  the  word  translated 
keeping,  is  much  larger  tlian  usual ;  which  shows  that  a  particular  em- 
phasis is  to  be  laid  upon  it  ;  as  if  he  should  say,  "  I  most  strictly  and 
richly  keep  mercy  lor  thousands  ;  the  treasure  is  immense,  and  can  never 
be  exhausted. 


PROCLAIMED  B\    HIMSELF.  305 

Prov.  XXX.  4.  "Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for 
me  ;  it  is  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it."  Psalm  cxxxix.  6. 
"  It  is  as  high  as  heaven,  what  can  I  know  1  deeper  than 
hell,  what  can  I  do  1  the  measure  thereof  is  longer  than 
the  earth,  and  broader  than  the  sea."  Job  xi.  8,  9.  Lend 
me  your  skill,  ye  angels,  who  have  seen  his  face  without 
intermission  from  the  first  moment  of  your  happy  exist- 
ence ;  or  ye  saints  above,  that  "  see  him  as  he  is,  and 
know  even  as  you  are  knowm,"  inspire  me  with  your  ex- 
alted ideas,  and  teach  me  your  celestial  language,  while 
I  attempt  to  bring  heaven  down  to  earth,  and  reveal  its 
glories  to  the  eyes  of  mortals.  In  vain  I  ask  ;  their  know- 
ledge is  incommunicable  to  the  inhabitants  of  flesh,  an^ 
none  but  immortals  can  learn  the  language  of  immortal- 
ity. But  why  do  I  ask  of  them  1  O  thou  father  of  angels 
and  of  men,  who  "  canst  perfect  thy  praise  even  out  of 
the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings,"  and  who  canst  open 
all  the  avenues  of  knowledge,  and  pour  thy  glory  upon 
created  minds,  do  thou  shine  into  my  heart ;  to  me  give 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  thy  glory :  /  beseech  thee, 
show  me  thy  glory  :  cause  it  to  shine  upon  my  understand- 
ing, while  I  try  to  display  it  to  thy  people,  that  they  may 
behold,  adore,  and  love. 

As  to  you,  my  brethren,  I  solicit  your  most  solemn 
and  reverential  attention,  while  I  would  lead  you  into  the 
knowledge  of  the  Lord  your  maker.  One  would  think 
a  kind  of  filial  curiosity  would  inspire  you  with  eager 
desires  to  be  acquainted  with  your  divine  Parent  and 
original.  You  would  not  be  willing  to  worship  you  know 
not  what,  or  with  the  Athenians,  adore  an  unknown  God. 
Do  you  not  long  to  know  the  greatest  and  best  of  beings, 
the  glimmerings  of  whose  glory  shine  upon  you  from 
heaven  and  earth  1  Would  you  not  know  him  in  whose 
presence  you  hope  to  dwell  and  be  happy  for  ever  and 
for  ever  1  Come  then,  be  all  awe  and  attention,  while  [ 
proclaim  to  you  his  name  and  perfections,  "  The  Lord, 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long-suffering  and 
abundant  in  goodness  and  truth ;  keeping  mercy  for 
thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin." 

We  may  be  sure  God  has  assumed  to  himself  such 
names  as  are  best  adapted  to  describe  his  nature,  as  far 
as  mortal  language  can  reach.  And  every  thing  belong- 
ing to  him  is  so  dear  and  important,  that  his  very  name 
26* 


306  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

deserves  a  particular  consideration.  This  is  not  to 
make  empty  criticisms  upon  an  arbitrary  unmeaning 
sound,  but  to  derive  useful  knowledge  from  a  word  of 
the  greatest  emphasis  and  significancy. 

The  first  name  in  the  order  of  the  text,  and  in  its  own 
dignity,  is,  the,  Lord^  or  Jehovah ;  a  name  here  twice  re- 
peated, to  show  its  importance,  the  Lord,  the  Lord,  or 
Jehovah,  Jehovah.  This  is  a  name  peculiar  to  God,  and 
incommunicable  to  the  most  exalted  creature.  The 
apostle  tells  us.  There  are  gods  many,  and  lords  many.  1 
Cor.  viii.  .5.  Magistrates  in  particular  are  so  called,  be- 
cause their  authority  is  some  shadow  of  the  divine  au- 
thority. But  the  name  Jehovah,  which  is  rendered  Lord 
in  my  text,  and  in  all  those  places  in  the  Bible,  where  it 
is  written  in  capitals,  I  say,  this  nam.e  Jehovah  is  appro- 
priated to  the  Supreme  Being,  and  never  applied  to  any 
other.  He  claims  it  to  himself,  as  his  peculiar  glory. 
Thus  in  Psalm  Ixxxiii.  ver.  18.  "  Thou,  whose  name 
alone  is  Jehovah,  art  the  Most  High  over  all  the  earth." 
And  in  Isaiah  Ixii.  ver.  8.  /  am  the  Lord,  or  (as  it  is  in 
the  original)  Jehovah;  that  is .  my  name,  my  proper  in- 
communicable name,  and  my  glory  will  I  not  give  to  an- 
other ;  that  is,  I  v.'iil  not  allow  another  to  share  with  me 
iu  the  glory  of  wearing  this  name.  Thus  also  in  Amos 
vi.  ver.  13.  "  Lo,  he  that  formeth  the  mountains,  and 
createth  the  wind,  that  declareth  to  man  what  is  in  his 
thoughts,  &c.,  the  Lord,  the  God  of  Hosts,  is  his  name," 
his  distinguishing,  appropriated  name.  There  must 
therefore  be  something  peculiarly  sacred  and  significant 
in  this  name,  since  it  is  thus  incommunicably  appropri- 
ated to  the  only  one  God. 

The  Jews  had  such  a  prodigious  veneration  for  this 
name  as  amounted  to  a  superstitious  excess.  They  call 
it  "  that  name,"  by  way  of  distinction,  "  The  great 
name,  the  glorious  name,  the  appropriated  name,  the  un- 
utterable name,  the  expounded  name,"*  because  they 
never  pronounced  it,  except  in  one  instance,  which  1 
shall  mention  presently,  but  always  expounded  it  by 
some  other  :  thus  when  the  name  Jehovah  occurred  in 
the  Old  Testament,  they  always  read  it  Adonai    or  Elo- 

*  They  also  distinguish  it  by  the  name  of  the  four  letters  that  compos- 
ed  it,  jodh^  he,vau,he  ;  and  hence  the  Greeks  called  il  the  four-lettered 
Name,     See  Buxtor!. 


PROCLAIMED  BY  HIMSELF.  307 

him^  the  usual  and  less  sacred  names,  which  we  translate 
Lord  God.  It  was  never  pronounced  by  the  Jews  in 
reading,  praj'er,  or  the  most  solemn  act  of  worship,  much 
less  in  common  conversation,  except  once  a  year,  on  the 
great  day  of  atonement,  and  then  only  by  the  high  priest 
in  the  sanctuary,  in  pronouncing  the  benediction  :  but  at 
all  other  times,  places,  and  occasions,  and  to  all  other 
persons,  the  pronunciation  was  deemed  unlawful.  The 
benediction  was  that  which  you  read  in  Numbers  vi. 
verse  24,  25,  26,  where  the  name  Jehovah  is  thrice  re- 
peated in  the  Hebrew,  "  Jehovah  bless  tliec,  and  keep 
thee:  Jehovah  make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee,  and  be 
gracious  to  thee  :  Jehovah  lift  up  the  light  of  his  coun- 
tenance upon  thee,  and  give  thee  peace."  When  this 
venerable  name  was  pronounced  upon  this  occasion,  we 
are  told  by  the  Jewish  rabbies,  "  that  all  the  vast  con- 
gregation then  present  bowed  the  knee,  and  fell  down  in 
the  humblest  prostration,  crying  out.  Blessed  he  his  glo- 
rious name  for  ever  and  ever.''''  They  supposed  this  name 
had  a  miraculous  virtue  in  it,  and  that  by  it  Moses  and 
others  wrought  such  wonders  :  nay,  so  great  was  their 
superstition,  that  they  thought  it  a  kind  of  charm  or  ma- 
gical word,  and  that  he  that  had  it  about  him,  and  knew 
its  true  pronunciation  and  virtue,  could  perform  the  most 
surprising  things,  and  even  shake  heaven  and  earth.* 

I  do  not  mention  these  things  with  approbation,  but 
only  to  show  that  there  is  something  peculiarly  signifi 
cant,  important,  and  sacred  in  this  name,  from  Avhence 
the  Jews  took  occasion  for  such  extravagant  notions : 
and  this  will  appear  from  its  etymology.  You  knov/  it 
is  not  my  usual  method  to  carry  a  great  quantity  of 
learned  disquisition  with  me  into  the  pulpit,  or  to  spend 
your  time  in  trifling,  pedantic  criticisms  upon  words, 
which  may  indeed  have  a  show  of  literature,  and  amuse 
those  who  admire  what  they  do  not  understand,  but  can 
answer  no  valuable  end  in  a  popular  audience.  However, 
at  present  I  must  take   the   liberty  of  showing  you  the 

•  This  name  seems  not  lo  have  been  unknown  among  other  nations. 
Hence  probably  is  derivt'd  the  name  Jovis,  Jove,  the  Latin  name  for  the 
Supreme  God.  And  it  is  probably  m  allusion  to  this  that  Varro  says. 
"  Deum  Judaeorum  esse  Jovem."  The  Moors  also  call  God  Jubah,  ana 
the  Mahometans  Hou  ;  which  in  their  language  signifies  the  same  with 
Jehorah,  namely,  He  who  is.    See  Univ.  Hist.  Vol.  III.  p.  357,  note  T- 


308  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

original  meaning  of  the  name  Jehovah^  that  I  may  tho- 
roughly explain  my  text,  and  that  you  may  know  the 
import  of  a  name  that  will  occur  so  often  to  you  in  read- 
ing your  Bibles  ;  for,  as  I  told  you,  wherever  you  meet 
■with  the  word  Lord  in  large  letters,  it  is  always  Jehovah 
in  the  original. 

The  name  Jehovah  is  derived  from  the  Hebrev/  verb, 
to  he  ;  and  therefore  the  meaning  of  the  word  Jehovah 
is,  The  existent^  the  beings  or,  He  that  is. — Thus  it  seems 
explained  in  Exodus  iii.  ver.  14.  /  am  that  I  am^  or,  "  I 
am  because  I  am  ;"  that  is,  I  exist,  and  have  being  in 
and  of  myself  without  dependence  upon  any  cause  ;  and 
my  existence  or  being  is  always  the  same,  unchangeable 
and  eternal.  St.  John  well  explains  this  name  by  the 
Who  is,  who  was,  and  who  is  to  come  ;  or,  as  the  passage 
might  be  rendered,  "  The  present  Being,  the  past  Being, 
and  the  future  Being  ;"  or.  The  Being  that  is,  the  Being 
that  was,  and  the  Being  that  will  be  ;  that  is,  the  per- 
petual, the  eternal,  and  unchangeable  Being.  I  shall  only 
observe  farther,  that  Jehovah  is  not  a  relative,  but  an  ab- 
solute name  :  there  is  no  pronoim  or  relative  word  that 
is  ever  joined  with  it ;  we  can  say.  My  Lord,  our  Lord, 
our  God,  &c.  but  the  Hebrews  never  say  or  write,  My 
Jehovah,  our  Jehovah,  &c.  ;  so  that  this  name  represents 
him  as  he  is  in  himself,  without  any  relation  to  his  crea- 
tures, as  he  would  have  been  if  they  had  never  existed. 
He  would  still  have  been  the  Being,  the  absolute,  inde- 
pendent existent,  in  which  view  he  has  nothing  to  do 
with  his  creatures,  and  can  sustain  no  relation  to  them. 

From  this  name,  thus  explained,  we  learn  the  follow- 
ing glorious,  incommunicable  perfections  of  God  ;  that 
he  is  self-existent  and  independent ;  that  his  being  is  ne- 
cessary ;  that  he  is  eternal  5  and  that  he  is  unchangeable. 

While  I  am  about  to  enter  upon  these  subjects,  I  seem 
to  stand  upon  the  brink  of  an  unbounded,  fathomless 
ocean,  and  tremble  to  launch  into  it  ;  but,  under  the  con- 
duct of  scripture  and  humble  reason,  let  us  make  the  ad- 
venture ;  for  it  is  a  happiness  to  be  lost  and  swallowed 
in  such  an  ocean  of  perfection. 

L  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  self-existent 
and  independent.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  he  pro- 
duced himself,  for  that  would  be  a  direct  contradiction, 
and  suppose  him  to  exist,  and  not  to  exist  at  the  same 


PROCLAIMED    BY    HIMSELF.  309 

lime  :  but  I  mean  that  tlie  reason  and  ground  of  his  ex- 
istence is  in  his  own  nature,  and  does  not  at  all  depend 
upon  anything  besides.  Being  is  essential  to  him.  He 
contains  an  infinite  fulness  of  being  in  himself,  and  no 
other  being  has  contributed  in  the  least  towards  his  ex- 
istence ;  and  hence  with  great  propriety  he  assumes  that 
strange  name,  /  am.  He  is  Being  throughout,  perfectly 
and  universally  vital ;  and  the  reason  of  this  is  entirely 
within  his  own  nature. 

-  How  gloriously  is  he  distinguished  in  this  respect 
from  all  other  beings,  even  the  most  illustrious  and  pow- 
erful! Time  was,  when  they  were  nothing.  Angels  and 
archangels,  men  and  beasts,  sun,  moon,  and  stars  ;  in 
short,  the  whole  universe  besides,  were  once  nothing, 
had  no  being  at  all :  and  what  was  the  reason  that  they 
ever  came  into  being  \  Certainly  it  was  not  in  them  : 
when  they  were  nothing  there  was  no  reason  at  all  in 
them  why  they  should  ever  be  something  ;  for  in  not 
being,  there  can  be  no  reason  or  ground  for  being.  The 
mere  pleasure  of  Gd,  the  fiat  of  this  self-existing  Jeho- 
vah, is  the  only  reason  and  sole  cause  of  their  existence. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  him,  they  would  have  continued  no- 
thing as  they  were  :  their  being  therefore  is  entirely  pre- 
carious, dependent,  and  w^holly  proceeds  from  a  cause 
without  themselves.  But  Jehovah  glories  in  an  unborrow- 
ed, und  erived,  independent  being.  Whatever  he  is,  it  is  his 
own ;  he  owes  it  only  to  himself.  What  a  glorious  Be- 
ing is  this  !  how  infinitely  different  from  and  superior  to 
the  whole  system  of  creatures  !  Are  you  not  already 
constrained  to  bow  the  knee  before  him,  and  wonder, 
adore,  and  love  \  But, 

II.  Hence  it  follows  that  his  existence  is  necessary  ; 
tnat  is,  it  is  impossible  for  him  not  to  be.  His  being  does 
not  depend  upon  any  thing  without  him,  nor  does  it  de- 
pend upon  his  own  arbitrary  will,  but  it  is  essential  to 
his  nature.  That  he  should  not  be  is  as  great  an  impos- 
sibility as  that  two  and  two  should  not  make  four.  It  is 
impossible  that  any  thing  should  be  more  closely  con- 
nected with  any  thing  than  being  is  with  his  essence,  and 
it  is  impossible  any  thing  should  be  more  opposite  to  any 
thing  than  he  is  to  non-existence.  Since  he  received  his 
being  from  nothing  without  himself,  and  since  the  reason 
of  his  existence  is  not  derived  from  any  other,  it  follows, 


310  THE    NAME    OF    GOD 

that  unless  he  exists  by  the  necessity  of  his  own  naturd, 
he  must  exist  without  any  necessity  :  that  is,  without 
any  reason  at  all,  which  is  the  same  as  to  say  that  no 
thing  is  the  cause  or  ground  of  his  existence  ;  and  what 
imagination  can  be  more  absurd  !  His  being  therefore 
must  exist  by  an  absolute,  independent  necessity. 

What  a  glorious  Being  is  this !  how  infinitely  distant 
from  nothing,  or  a  possibility  of  not  being !  What  an 
unbounded  fund  of  existence,  what  an  immense  ocean  of 
Being  is  here  !  Alas  !  what  are  we,  what  is  the  whole 
universe  besides  in  this  comparison  1  They  are  nothings 
less  than  nothings  and  vanity.  Our  being  is  not  only  de- 
rived but  arbitrary,  depending  entirely  upon  the  mere 
pleasure  of  Jehovah.  There  w^as  no  necessity  from  our 
nature  that  we  should  he  at  all ;  and  now  there  is  no  ne- 
cessity that  ^ve  should  continue  to  he.  If  we  exist,  it  is 
not  owing  to  us.  "  He  made  us,  and  not  w^e  ourselves  ;" 
and  if  we  shall  continue  to  be  for  ever,  it  is  not  owing  to 
a  fund  of  being  within  ourselves,  but  to  the  same  God  w^ho 
first  formed  us.  It  is  l>ut  lately  since  we  sprung  from 
nothing,  and  how  near  are  we  still  to  the  confines  of  no- 
thing !  We  hang  over  the  dreadful  gulf  of  annihilation 
by  a  slender  thread  of  being,  sustained  by  the  self-origi- 
nated Jehovah.  Eemove  him,  take  away  his  agency,  and 
universal  nature  sinks  into  nothing  at  once.  Take  away 
the  root,  and  the  branches  wither :  dry  up  the  fountain, 
and  the  streams  cease.  If  any  of  you  are  such  fools  as 
to  wish  in  your  hearts  there  were  no  God,  you  imprecate 
annihilation  upon  the  whole  universe;  you  wish  total  de- 
struction to  yourself  and  every  thing  else  ;  you  wish  the 
extinction  of  all  being.  All  depend  upon  God,  the  un- 
caused cause,  the  only  necessary  Being.  Sufier  me  here 
to  make  a  digression.  Is  this  the  God  whom  the  daring 
sons  of  men  so  much  forget,  dishonor,  and  disobey  1 
Are  they  so  entirely  dependent  upon  him,  and  yet  care- 
less how  they  behave  towards  him,  careless  whether 
they  love  and  please  him  1  Do  they  owe  their  being 
and  their  all  entirely  to  him  \  And  are  they  wholly  in 
his  hand  \  What  then  do  they  mean  by  withholding 
their  thoughts  and  affections  from  him,  breaking  his 
laws  and  neglecting  his  gospel  \  Can  you  find  a  name 
for  such  a  conduct  1  Would  it  not  be  entirely  in 
credible  did  we  not  see  it  with  our  eyes  all  around  us  1 


PROCLAIMED  BY  HIMSELF.  311 

Sinners,  what  mean  you  by  this  conduct  I  Let  the 
infant  rend  the  Avomb  that  conceived  it,  or  tear  the 
breasts  that  cherish  it ;  go,  poison  or  destroy  the  bread 
that  should  feed  you  ;  dry  up  the  streams  that  sliould 
allay  your  thirst ;  stop  the  breath  that  keeps  you  in  life  ; 
do  these  things,  or  do  any  thing,  but  0 !  do  not  forget, 
disobey,  and  provoke  the  very  Father  of  your  being,  to 
whom  you  owe  it  that  you  are  not  as  much  nothing 
now  as  you  were  ten  thousand  years  ago,  and  on  whom 
you  depend,  not  only  for  this  and  that  mercy,  but  for 
your  very  being,  every  moment  of  your  existence,  in 
time  and  eternity.  He  can  do  very  well  without  you, 
but  O  what  are  you  without  him  !  a  stream  without  a 
fountain,  a  branch  without  a  root,  an  eflect  without  a 
cause,  a  mere  blank,  a  nothing.  He  indeed  is  self-suffi- 
cient and  self-existent.  It  is  nothing  to  him,  as  to  his 
existence,  whether  creation  exists  or  not.  Let  men  and 
angels  and  every  creature  sink  to  nothing,  from  whence 
they  came,  his  being  is  still  secure :  lie  enjoys  an  unpre- 
carious  being  of  his  OAvn,  necessarily,  unchangeably,  and 
eternally  existent.  Men  and  angels  bow  the  knee,  fall 
prostrate  and  adore  before  this  Being  of  beings.  How 
mean  are  you  in  his  presence!  what  poor,  arbitrary,  de- 
pendent, perishing  creatures  !  what  shadows  of  existence  ! 
what  mere  nothings  !  And  is  it  not  fit  you  should  humbly 
acknowledge  it  \  Can  there  be  any  thing  more  unnatu- 
ral, any  thing  more  foolish,  any  thing  more  audaciously 
wicked,  than  to  neglect  or  contemn  such  a  Being,  the 
Being  of  beings,  the  Being  that  includes  all  being]  I  can 
hardly  bear  up  under  the  horror  of  the  thought. 

III.  The  name  Jehovah  implies  that  God  is  eternal  j 
that  is,  he  always  was,  is,  and  ever  will  be.  From  ever- 
lasting to  everlasiin,ir  he  is  God.  Psalm  xc.  2.  This  is  his 
grand  peculiar,  he  only  hath  immortality^  2  Tim.  vi.  16,  in 
a  full  and  absolute  sense.  Men  and  angels  indeed  are 
immortal,  but  it  is  but  a  kind  of  half-eternity  they  enjoy. 
They  once  were  nothing,  and  continued  in  that  state 
through  an  eternal  duration.  But  as  Jehovah  never  will 
have  an  end,  so  he  never  had  a  beginning.  This  follows 
from  his  necessary  self-existence.  If  the  reason  of  his 
existence  be  in  himself,  then  unless  he  always  existed  he 
never  could  exist,  for  nothing  without  himself  could 
cause  him  to  exist.     And  if  he  exists  by  absolute  neces- 


312  THE    rCAME    OF    GOD 

sity,  he  must  always  exist,  for  absolute  necessity  is  al- 
ways the  same,  without  any  relation  to  time  or  place. 
Therefore  he  always  was  and  ever  will  be. 

And  what  a  Avonderful  Being  is  this  !  a  Being  unbe- 
gun, and  that  can  never  have  an  end!  a  Being  possessed 
of  a  complete,  entire  eternity.  Here,  my  brethren,  let 
your  thoughts  take  wing,  and  fly  backward  and  forward, 
and  see  if  you  can  trace  his  existence.  Fly  back  in 
thought  about  six  thousand  years,  and  all  nature,  as  far 
as  appears  to  us,  was  a  mere  blai\k  ;  no  heaven  nor  earth, 
no  men  nor  angels.  But  still  the  great  Eternal  lived — 
lived  alone,  self-sufficient  and  self-happy.  Fly  forward 
in  thought  as  far  as  the  conflagration,  and  you  will  see 
"  the  heavens  dissolving,  and  the  earth  and  the  thingn 
that  are  therein  burnt  up  :  "  but  still  Jehovah  lives  un- 
changeable, and  absolutely  independent.  Exert  all  the 
powers  of  numbers,  add  centuries  to  centuries,  thousands 
to  thousands,  millions  to  millions ;  fly  back,  back,  back, 
as  far  as  thought  can  possibly  carry  you,  still  Jehovah  ex- 
ists :  nay,  you  are  even  then  as  far  from  the  first  moment 
of  his  existence  as  you  are  now,  or  ever  can  be.  Take  the 
same  prospect  before  you,  and  you  will  find  the  King  eter- 
nal and  immortal  still  the  same :  he  is  then  no  nearer  an 
end  than  at  the  creation,  or  millions  of  ages  before  it. 

What  a  glorious  being  is  this  !  Here,  again,  let  men 
and  angels,  and  all  the  offspring  of  time,  bow  the  knee 
and  adore.  Let  them  lose  themselves  in  this  ocean^  and 
spend  their  eternity  in  ecstatic  admiration  and  love  of  this 
eternal  Jehovah. 

0  !  what  a  glorious  portion  is  he  to  his  people  !  Your 
earthly  enjoyments  may  pass  away  like  a  shadow ;  your 
friends  die,  yourselves  must  die,  and  heaven  and  earth 
may  vanish  like  a  dream,  but  your  God  lives  !  he  lives 
for  ever,  to  give  you  a  happiness  equal  to  your  immortal 
duration.  Therefore,  blessed^  blessed  is  the  people  whose 
God  is  the  Lord  ! 

But  O  !  let  sinners,  let  wicked  men  and  devils  tremble 
before  him,  for  how  dreadful  an  enemy  is  an  eternal  God! 
He  lives  for  ever  to  punish  you.  He  lives  for  ever  to 
hate  your  sin,  to  resent  your  rebellion,  and  to  display  his 
justice ;  and  while  he  lives  you  must  be  miserable.  What 
a  dismal  situation  are  you  in,  when  the  eternal  existence 
of  Jehovah  is  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  terror  to  you  !    O 


I'llOCLiMMED    BY    HIMSELF.  313 

hovv  have  you  inverted  tiie  order  of  things,  when  you  have 
made  it  your  interest  that  the  Fountain  of  being-  should 
cease  to  be,  and  that  with  him  yourselves  and  all  other 
creatures  should  vanish  into  nothing  !  What  a  malig- 
nant thing  is  sin,  that  makes  existence  a  curse,  and  uni- 
versal annihilation  a  blessing !  What  a  strange  region 
is  hell,  where  being,  so  sweet  in  itself,  and  the  capacity 
of  all  enjoyments,  is  become  the  most  intolerable  bur- 
den, and  every  wish  is  an  imprecation  of  universal  anni- 
hilation !  Sinners,  you  have  now  time  to  consider  these 
miseries  and  avoid  them,  and  will  you  be  so  senseless 
and  fool-hardy  as  to  rush  headlong  into  them  %  0  !  if 
you  were  but  sensible  what  wdll  be  the  consequences  of 
your  conduct  in  a  few  years,  you  w^ould  not  need  per 
suasions  to  reform  it :  but  0  the  fatal  blindness  and  stu- 
pidity of  mortals,  who  will  not  be  convinced  of  these 
things  till  the  conviction  be  too  late  ! 

IV.  The  name   of  Jehovah    implies  that  God  is  un- 
changeable, or  ahvays  the  same.  li  he  exists  necessarily, 
he  must  always  necessarily  be  what  he  is,  and  cuunotbe 
anything  else.     He   is  dependent  upon  none,  aiid  there- 
fore he  can  be  subject  to  no  change  from  another  ;  and 
he   is   infinitely  perfect,  and  therefore  cannot  desire  to 
change   himself.     So  that  he  must  be  always  the  same 
through  all  duration,  from  eternity  to  eternity  :  the  same, 
Qot  only  as  to   his  being,  but  as  to  his  perfections ;  the 
same   in  power,  wisdom,   goodness,  justice,  and  happi- 
ness.    Thus  he  represents  himself  in  his  word,  as  "  the 
Father  of  lights,  with  whom  there  is  no  variableness,  nor 
shadow  of  turning  :  James   i.  17  ;  "  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  forever :  Heb.  xiii.  8.    What  a  distinguished 
perfection  is  this !  and  indeed  it  is  in  Jehovah  only  that 
immutability  can  be  a  perfection.     The  most  excellent 
creature   is  capable  of  progressive   improvements,  and 
seems  intended  for  it ;  and  to  fix  such  a  creature  at  first 
in  an  immutable  state,  w^ould  be  to   limit  and  restrain  it 
from   higher  degrees  of  perfection,  and  keep  it  always 
in  a  state  of  infancy.     But  Jehovah   is  absolutely,  com- 
pletely, and  infinitely  perfect,  at  the  highest   summit  of 
all  possible  excellency,  infinitely  beyond  any  addition  to 
his  perfection,  and  absolutely  incapable  of  improvement; 
and  consequently,  as  there  is  no  room  for,  so  there  is  no 
need  of,  a  change  in  him ;  and  hi?  immutability  is  a  per- 
27 


.314"  THE  ^AME  OF  GOD  PKOCLAliMED  BY  HIMSELF. 

petual,  invariable  continuance  in  the  highest  degree  of 
excellency,  and  therefore  the  highest  perfection.  He  is 
the  cause  and  the  spectator  of  an  endless  variety  of 
changes  in  the  universe,  without  the  least  change  in  him- 
self. He  sees  worlds  springing  into  being,  existing 
awhile,  and  then  dissolving.  He  sees  kingdoms  and  em- 
pires forming,  rising,  and  rushing  headlong  to  ruin.  He 
changes  the  times  and  the  seasons ;  removeth  kings,  and 
ne  setteth  up  kings  :  Dan  ii.  21 ;  and  he  sees  the  fickle- 
ness and  vicissitudes  of  mortals  ;  he  sees  generations 
upon  generations  vanishing  like  successive  shadows  ;  he 
sees  them  now  wise,  now  foolish  5  now  in  pursuit  of  one 
thing,  novv'  of  another  ;  now  happy,  now  miserable,  and  in 
a  thousand  different  forms.  He  sees  the  revolutions  in 
nature,  the  successions  of  the  seasons,  and  of  night  and 
day.  These  and  a  thousand  other  alterations  he  beholds, 
and  they  are  all  produced  or  permitted  by  his  all-ruling 
providence  ;  but  all  these  make  no  change  in  him ;  his 
being,  his  perfections,  his  counsels,  and  his  happiness, 
are  invariably  and  eternally  the  same.  He  is  not  wise, 
good,  just,  or  happy,  only  at  times,  but  he  is  equally, 
steadily,  and  immutably  so  through  the  whole  of  his  in- 
finite duration.  O  how  unlike  the  fleeting  offspring  of 
time,  and  especially  the  changing  race  of  man ! 

Since  Jehovah  is  thus  constant  and  unchangeable,  how 
worthy  is  he  to  be  chosen  as  our  best  friend !  You  that 
love  him  need  fear  no  change  in  him.  They  are  not 
small  matters  that  will  turn  his  heart  from  you :  his  love 
is  fixed  with  judgment,  and  he  never  will  see  reason  to 
reverse  it :  it  is  not  a  transient  fit  of  fondness,  but  it  is 
deliberate,  calm,  and  steady.  You  may  safely  trust  your 
all  in  his  hands,  for  he  cannot  deceive  you  5  and  what- 
ever or  whoever  fail  you,  he  will  not.  "  You  live  in  a 
fickle,  uncertain  world ;  your  best  friends  may  prove 
treacherous  or  cool  towards  you  ;  all  your  earthly  com- 
forts may  wither  and  die  around  you  ;  yea,  heaven  and 
earth  may  pass  away ;  but  your  God  is  still  the  same. 
He  has  assured  you  of  it  with  his  own  mouth,  and  point- 
ed out  to  you  the  happy  consequences  of  it :  "I  am  the 
Lord  Jehovah,"  says  he,  "I  change  not ;  therefore  ye 
sons  of  Jacob  are  not  consumed  :  "  Mai.  iii.  6. 

What  a  complete  happiness  is  this  Jehovah  to  those 
who  have  chosen  him  for  their  portion  !    If  an   infinite 


GOD    16    LOVE.  315 

God  is  now  sufficient  to  satisfy  your  utmost  desires,  he 
will  be  so  to  all  eternity.  He  is  an  ocean  of  communi- 
cative happiness  that  never  ebbs  or  flows,  and  therefore 
completely  blessed  will  you  ever  be  who  have  an  inter- 
est in  him. 

But  O !  how  miserable  are  they  who  are  the  enemies 
of  this  Jehovah  !  Sinners,  he  is  unchangeable,  and  can 
never  lay  aside  his  resentments  against  sin,  or  abate  in 
the  least  degree  in  his  love  of  virtue  and  holiness.  He 
will  never  recede  from  his  purpose  to  punish  impenitent 
rebels,  nor  lose  his  power  to  accomplish  it.  His  hatred 
of  all  moral  evil  is  not  a  transient  passion,  but  a  fixed, 
invariable,  deep-rooted  hatred.  Therefore,  if  ever  you 
be  happy,  there  must  be  a  change  in  you.  As  you  are 
so  opposite  to  him,  there  must  be  an  alteration  in  the 
one  or  the  other  :  you  see  it  cannot  be  in  him,  and  there- 
fore it  must  be  in  you ;  and  this  you  ought  to  labor  for 
above  all  other  things.  Let  us  then  have  grace,  whereby 
we  may  serve  God  acceptably  with  reverence  and  godly  fear, 
for  our  God  is  a  consuming  Jire  (Heb.  xii.  28,  29,)  to  his 
impenitent  and  implacable  enemies.* 


SERMON  XVIII. 

GOD    IS    LOVE. 

1  John  iv.  8. — God  is  love. 

Love  is  a  gentle,  pleasing  theme,  the  noblest  passion 
of  the  human  breast,  and  the  fairest  ornament  of  the  ra- 
tional nature.  Love  is  the  cement  of  society,  and  the 
source   of  social,  happiness  ;  and   without  it  the  great 

♦  Our  author  has  evidently  not  finished  his  subject,  and  I  do  not  find  it 
prosecuted  in  any  of  the  discourses  that  have  come  to  my  hands  :  but  yet  I 
determined  to  publish  the  Sermon,  not  only  for  its  own  (if  I  mistake  not) 
substantial  worth,  but  the  rather  as  the  Sermon  that  next  follows  in  order, 
may  be  considered  as  a  prosecution,  if  not  a  completion  of  the  great  and 
glorious  subject  he  has  undertaken,  particularly  of  his  professed  design  in 
this  Sermon,  "  of  explaining  the  several  perfections  here  ascribed  to  God, 
and  showing  that  they  all  concur  to  constitute  his  goodness.  The  Editor. 


316  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

community  of  the  rational  universe  would  dissolve,  and 
men  and  angels  would  turn  savages,  and  roam  apart  in 
barbarous  solitude.  Love  is  the  spring  of  every  plea- 
sure ;  for  who  could  take  pleasure  in  the  possession  of 
what  he  does  not  love  !  Love  is  the  foundation  of  reli- 
gion and  morality  ;  for  what  is  more  monstrous  than  re- 
ligion without  love  to  that  God  w^ho  is  the  object  of  it  \ 
Or  who  can  perform  social  duties  without  feeling  the  en- 
dearments of  those  relations  to  which  they  belong  \ 
Love  is  the  softener  and  polisher  of  human  minds,  and 
transforms  barbarians  into  men;  its  pleasures  are  refin- 
ed and  delicate,  and  even  its  pains  and  anxieties  have 
something  in  them  soothing  and  pleasing.  In  a  word, 
love  is  the  brightest  beam  of  divinity  that  has  ever  irradi- 
ated the  creation ;  the  nearest  resemblance  to  the  ever- 
blessed  God  ;  for  God  is  love. 

-  God  is  love.  There  is  an  unfathomable  depth  in  this 
concise  laconic  sentence,  which  even  the  penetration  of 
an  angel's  mind  cannot  reach ;  an  ineflable  excellence, 
which  even  celestial  eloquence  cannot  fully  represent. 
God  is  love  ;  not  only  lovely  and  loving,  but  love  itself  ; 
pure,  unmixed  love,  nothing  but  love  ;  love  in  his  nature 
and  in  his  operations ;  the  object,  source,  and  quintes- 
sence of  all  love. 

My  present  design  is  to  recommend  the  Deity  to  your 
affections  under  the  amiable  idea  of  love,  and  for  that 
end  to  show  that  his  other  perfections  are  but  various 
modifications  of  love 

L  Love  comprehends  the  various  forms  of  divine  be- 
neficence. Goodness,  that  extends  its  bounties  to  innu- 
merable ranks  of  creatures,  and  diffuses  happiness  through 
the  various  regions  of  the  universe,  except  that  which  is 
set  apart  for  the  dreadful,  but  salutary  and  benevolent 
purpose  of  confining  and  punishing  incorrigible  male- 
factors ;  grace,  which  so  richly  showers  its  blessings 
upon  the  undeserving,  without  past  merit  or  the  prospect 
of  future  compensation  ;  mercy,  that  commiserates  and 
relieves  the  miserable  as  well  as  the  undeserving  ;  pa- 
tience and  long-suffering,  which  so  long  tolerate  insolent 
and  provoking  offenders :  what  is  all  this  beneficence  in 
all  these  its  different  forms  towards  different  objects, 
what  but  love  under  various  names  1  It  is  gracious,  mer- 
ciful, patient  and  long-suffering  love  ;  love  variegated, 


GOD    19    LOVE.  317 

overflowing,  and  unbounded  ;  what  but  love  was  the 
Creator  of  such  a  world  as  this,  so  well  accommodated, 
so  richly  furnished  for  the  sustenance  and  comfort  of  its 
inhabitants  1  and  what  but  love  has  planted  it  so  thick 
with  an  endless  variety  of  beings,  all  capable  of  receiv- 
ing some  stream  of  happiness  from  that  immense  foun- 
tain of  it,  the  divine  goodness  1  Is  it  not  love  that  pre- 
serves such  an  huge  unwieldy  world  as  this  in  order  and 
harmony  from  age  to  age,  and  supplies  all  its  numerous 
inhabitants  with  every  good  1  and  O  !  was  it  not  love, 
free,  rich,  unmerited  love,  that  provided  a  Savior  for  the 
guilty  children  of  men  1  It  was  because  "  God  loved 
the  Vv'orld,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that  who- 
soever believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting Hfe."  John  iii.  16.  O  love,  what  hast  thou  done  ! 
what  wonders  hast  thou  wrought !  It  was  thou,  almigh- 
ty love,  that  broughtest  down  the  Lord  of  glory  from  his 
celestial  throne,  to  die  upon  a  cross  an  atoning  sacrifice 
for  the  sins  of  the  world.  And  what  but  love  is  it  that 
peoples  the  heavenly  w'orld  v/ith  colonies  transplanted 
from  this  rebellious  province  of  Jehovah's  dominions  ; 
that  forms  such  miracles  of  glory  and  happiness  out  of 
the  dust,  and  the  shattered,  polluted  fragments  of  human 
nature  !  and  what  but  eternal  love  perpetuates  their  bliss 
through  an  eternal  duration  1  but  it  is  so  evident,  that 
these  instances  of  divine  goodness  are  only  the  effects 
of  love,  that  it  is  needless  to  attempt  any  farther  illus- 
tration. 

II.  What  is  divine  wisdom  but  a  modification  of  divine 
love,  planning  the  best  adapted  schemes  for  communi- 
cating itself  in  the  most  advantageous,  beneficent,  and 
honorable  manner,  so  as  to  promote  the  good  of  the 
great  whole  or  collective  system  of  creatures  by  the 
happiness  of  individuals ;  or  to  render  the  punishment 
and  misery  of  individuals,  which,  for  important  reasons 
of  state  may  be  sometimes  necessary  in  a  good  govern- 
ment, subservient  to  the  same  benevolent  end  1  What- 
ever traces  of  divine  wisdom  we  see  in  creation  ;  as  the 
order  and  harmony  of  the  great  system  of  nature,  its 
rich  and  various  furniture,  and  the  conspiracy  of  all  its 
parts  to  produce  the  good  of  each  other  and  the  whole  ; 
whatever  divine  wisdom  appears  in  conducting  the  great 
scheme  of  providence  through  the  various  ages  of  time  : 


318  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

or  in  the  more  astonishing  and  godlike  work  of  redemp- 
tion ;  in  a  word,  whatever  displays  of  divine  wisdom  ap- 
pear in  any  part  of  the  universe,  they  are  only  the  sig- 
natures of  divine  love.  Why  was  yonder  sun  fixed 
where  he  is,  and  enriched  with  such  extensive  vital  in- 
fluences, but  because  divine  love  saw  it  was  best  and 
most  conducive  to  the  good  of  the  system  1  Why  were 
our  bodies  so  wonderfulty  and  fearfully  made,  and  all 
their  parts  so  well  fitted  for  action  and  enjoyment,  but 
because  divine  love  drew  the  plan,  and  stamped  its  own 
amiable  image  upon  theml  W^hy  was  the  manifold 
wisdom  of  God  displayed,  not  only  to  mortals,  but  also 
to  angelic  principalities  and  powers^  Eph.  iii.  10,  in  the 
scheme  of  redemption,  which  advances  at  once  the 
honors  of  the  divine  perfections  and  government,  and  the 
happiness  of  rebellious  and  ruined  creatures,  by  an  expe- 
dient which  nothing  but  infinite  wisdom  could  ever 
devise,  the  incarnation,  the  obedience,  and  passion  of 
the  co-equal  Son  of  God  %  W^hy,  I  say,  but  because 
divine  love  Avould  otherwise  be  under  restraint,  and  in- 
capable of  giving  full  scope  to  its  kind  propensions  in  a 
manner  honorable  to  itself  and  conducive  to  the  public 
good  %  In  short,  divine  wisdom  appears  to  be  nothing 
else  but  the  sagacity  of  love,  to  discover  ways  and 
means  to  exercise  itself  to  the  greatest  advantage  ;  or, 
which  is  the  same,  divine  wisdom  always  acts  under  the 
benign  determination  and  conduct  of  love :  it  is  the 
counselor  of  love  to  project  schemes  subservient  to  its 
gracious  purposes  ;  and  in  all  its  councils  love  presides. 
III.  W  hat  is  divine  power  but  the  omnipotence  of 
iove  1  W^hy  did  omnipotence  exert  itself  in  the  produc- 
tion of  this  vast  amazing  world  out  of  nothing  '\  It  was 
to  open  a  channel  in  which  the  overfloAving  ocean  of 
love  might  extend  itself,  and  diffuse  its  streams  from 
creature  to  creature,  upwards  as  high  as  the  most  ex- 
alted archangel,  and  downwards  as  low  as  the  meanest 
vital  particle  of  being,  and  extensive  as  the  remotest 
limits  of  the  universe,  and  all  the  innumerable  interme- 
diate ranks  of  existences  in  the  endless  chain  of  nature. 
And  why  does  divine  power  still  support  this  prodigious 
frame,  but  to  keep  the  channel  of  love  open  from  age  to 
age  1  and  for  this  purpose  it  will  be  exerted  to  all  eter- 
nity.    Perhaps   I    should    assist  your    ideas   of  Divine 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  319 

Power,  if  I  should  call  it  the  acting  hand,  the  instru* 
ment,  the  servant  of  love,  to  perform  its  orders,  and  ex- 
ecute its  gracious  designs. 

IV.  What  is  the  holiness  of  God  hut  love — pure,  re- 
fined, and  honorable  love  1  What  is  it  but  the  love  of 
excellence,  rectitude,  and  moral  goodness  1  Holiness, 
m  its  own  nature,  has  a  tendency  to  promote  the  happi- 
ness of  the  universe  ;  it  is  the  health,  the  good  consti- 
tution of  a  reasonable  being  ;  without  which  it  has  no 
capacity  of  relishing  those  enjoyments  which  are  suita- 
ble to  its  nature.  It  is  no  arbitrary  mandate  of  Heaven 
that  has  established  the  inseparable  connection  between 
holiness  and  happiness,  between  vice  and  misery.  The 
connection  is  as  necessary,  as  immutable,  and  as  much 
founded  in  the  nature  of  things,  as  that  between  health 
of  body  and  a  capacity  of  animal  enjoyments,  or  between 
sickness  and  a  disrelish  for  the  most  agreeable  food. 
Every  creature  in  the  universe,  as  far  as  he  is  holy,  is 
happy ;  and  as  far  as  he  is  unholy,  he  is  miserable. 
Therefore,  by  how  much  the  more  holy  Jehovah  is,  by 
so  much  the  more  ft  he  is  to  communicate  happiness  to 
all  that  enjoy  him  ;  and  consequently  he  is  an  infinite 
happiness,  for  he  is  infinitely  holy.  His  taking  so  much 
care  to  promote  holiness  is  but  taking  care  of  the  public 
good.  The  strict  exactions  of  his  law,  which  contains 
every  ingredient  of  the  most  perfect  holiness,  and  ad- 
mits of  no  dispensation,  are  but  strict  injunctions  to  his 
subjects  to  pursue  that  course  which  infallibly  leads 
them  to  the  most  consummate  happiness  ;  and  every 
abatement  in  his  demands  of  obedience  v/ould  be  a 
license  to  them  to  deduct  so  much  from  their  happiness, 
and  render  themselves  so  far  miserable  with  his  consent. 
That  mitigation  of  the  rigor  of  his  law,  which  some 
imagine  he  has  made  to  bring  it  down  to  a  level  with 
the  abilities  of  degenerate  creatures,  disabled  by  their 
voluntary  wickedness,  would  no  more  contribute  to 
their  felicity  than  the  allowing  a  sick  man  to  gratify  his 
vitiated  taste  by  mixing  a  little  deadly  poison  in  his  food 
would  contribute  to  the  recovery  of  his  health,  or  the 
preservation  of  his  life.  The  penal  sanctions  of  the 
divine  law  are  but  friendly  warnings  against  danger  and 
misery,  and  honest  admonitions  of  the  destructive  con- 
sequences of  sin,  according  to  the  unchangeable  nature 


320  GOE    IS    LOVE. 

of  things ;  they  are  threatenings  which  discover  no 
malignity  or  ill-nature,  as  sinners  are  apt  to  imagine,  but 
the  infinite  benevolence  of  the  heart  of  God  ;  threaten- 
ings which  are  not  primarily  and  unconditionally  in- 
tended to  be  executed,  but  to  prevent  all  occasion  of 
their  being  executed,  by  preventing  sin,  the  natural 
source,  as  well  as  the  meritorious  cause  of  every  misery: 
threatenings  which  are  not  executed,  but  as  the  only 
expedient  left  in  a  desperate  case,  when  all  other  means 
have  been  used  in  vain,  and  no  other  method  can  secure 
the  public  good,  or  render  a  worthless  criminal  a  vessel 
of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction^  and  fit  for  nothing  else  ; 
of  no  other  service  to  the  great  community  of  rational 
beings.  These  are  some  of  the  ingredients  and  displays 
of  the  holiness  of  God  :  and  what  are  these  but  so  many 
exertions  of  pure  love  and  benevolence  %  It  is  because 
he  loves  his  creatures  so  much  that  he  requires  them  to 
be  so  holy :  and  that  very  thing,  against  which  there  are 
so  many  cavils  and  objections,  as  too  severe  and  oppres- 
sive, and  a  rigid  restraint  from  the  pursuit  of  pleasure, 
is  the  highest  instance  of  the  love  of  God  for  them,  and 
his  regard  for  their  happiness. 

Let  me  therefore  commence  advocate  for  God  with 
my  fellow-men,  though  it  strikes  me  with  horror  to  think 
there  should  be  any  occasion  for  it.  Ye  children  of  the 
most  tender  Father,  ye  subjects  of  the  most  gracious 
and  righteous  Sovereign,  ye  beneficiaries  of  divine  love, 
why  do  you  harbor  hard  thoughts  of  him  1  Is  it  because 
his  laws  are  so  strict,  and  tolerate  you  in  no  guilty  pleas- 
ure '(  This  appointment  is  the  kind  restraint  of  love  :  the 
love  of  so  good  a  being  will  not  allow  him  to  dispense 
with  your  observance  of  anything  that  may  contribute  to 
your  improvement  and  advantage,  nor  indulge  you  in 
anything  that  is  in  its  own  nature  deadly  and  destructive, 
no  more  than  a  father  will  suffer  a  favorite  child  to  play 
with  a  viper,  or  a  good  government  permit  a  madman  to 
run  at  large  armed  with  weapons  to  destroy  himself  and 
others.  Do  you  think  hard  of  God  because  he  hates  all 
moral  evil  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  has  annexed  to  it 
everlasting  misery  of  the  most  exquisite  kind  1  But  what 
is  this  but  an  expression  of  his  infinite  hatred  to  every 
thing  that  is  hurtful  to  his  creatures,  and  his  infinite  re- 
gard to  whatever  tends  to  their  benefit  %    Or  has  he  been 


GOD    IS    LOVE  321 

too  rigid  in  exacting-  holiness  as  a  necessary  pre-requi- 
site  to  the  happiness  of  heaven  1  You  may  as  well  com- 
plain of  the  constitution  of  nature,  that  renders  absti- 
nence from  poison  necessary  to  the  preservation  of 
health,  or  that  does  not  allow  you  to  quench  your  thirst 
in  a  fever  with  cold  water.  Let  me  remind  you  once 
more,  that  holiness  is  essential  to  the  happiness  of  heav- 
en, and  that  without  it  you  labor  under  a  moral  incapaci- 
ty of  enjoyment ;  and  a  moral  incapacity  will  as  inevita- 
bly deprive  you  of  the  pleasures  of  enjoyment,  as  if  it 
were  natniral.  While  unholy  you  can  no  more  be  hap- 
py even  in  the  region  of  happiness  than  a  stone  can  en- 
joy the  pleasures  of  animal  life,  or  a  mere  animal  those 
of  reason.  "  But  why,"  you  will  perhaps  murmur  and 
object,  'Svhy  has  God  formed  such  a  heaven  as  cannot 
be  universally  enjoyed  1  Why  has  he  not  provided  a  hap- 
piness  for  every  taste  1"  You  may  as  well  ask  why  he 
has  not  created  a  light  that  would  be  equally  agreeable 
to  every  eye  ;  to  the  mole  and  the  owd,  as  well  as  to 
n^an  and  the  eagle  1  Or  why  has  he  not  formed  light 
with  all  the  properties  of  darkness  ;  that  is,  why  has  he 
not  performed  contradictions  1  You  may  as  well  query, 
why  has  he  not  given  us  equal  capacities  of  enjoyments 
in  sickness  and  in  health,  and  furnished  ns  with  equal 
pleasures  in  both  1  I  tell  you  that,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  the  low  and  impure  pleasures  which  would  suit 
the  depraved  taste  of  the  wicked,  would  be  nauseous  and 
painful  to  pure  minds  refined  and  sanctified  ;  and  they 
cannot  mingle,  they  cannot  approach  each  other  without 
being  destroyed.  The  element  of  water  may  as  well  be 
converted  into  a  fit  residence  for  the  inhabitants  of  dry 
land,  and  yet  retain  ail  its  properties  that  are  suitable  to 
its  present  natives  ;  or  the  solid  earth  become  a  fit  re- 
ceptacle for  fishes,  and  yet  both  it  and  the  fishes  retain 
their  usual  qualities.  In  short,  men,  beasts,  birds,  fishes, 
insects,  angels,  devils,  the  inhabitants  of  every  zone  and 
climate,  of  every  planet,  or  any  other  region  of  the  uni- 
verse, may  as  well  form  one  society  in  one  and  the  same 
place,  and  mingle  their  respective  food  and  pleasures,  as 
a  heaven  of  happiness  be  prepared  that  would  suit  every 
taste.  God  has  prepared  the  only  kind  heaven  that  is 
in  its  own  nature  possible  ;  the  only  one  that  would  be 
au  expression-  of  love,  or  afford  real  and  extensive  hap- 


322  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

piness  lo  such  of  his  creatures  as  are  capable  of  it.  The 
heaven  of  sinners  would  be  a  nuisance  to  all  other  be- 
ings in  the  universe  ;  a  private  good  only  to  malefactors, 
at  the  expense  of  the  public  ;  an  open  reward  of  wick- 
edness, and  a  public  discountenancing  of  all  moral  good- 
ness. This  would  be  the  case  upon  the  supposition  that 
the  heaven  of  sinners  were  possible.  But  the  supposi- 
tion is  infinitely  absurd  ;  it  is  as  impossible  as  the  pleas- 
ures of  sickness,  the  sensibility  of  a  stone,  or  the  meri- 
dian splendors  of  midnight. 

Therefore  acknowledge,  admire,  and  love  the  beauty 
of  the  Lord,  his  holiness.  Give  thanks^  says  the  Psalm- 
ist, at  the  remembrance  of  his  holiness.  Ps.  xcvii.  12,  of 
his  holiness,  as  well  as  of  his  goodness  and  love  ;  for 
it  is  the  brightest  modification  of  his  love  and  goodness. 
An  unholy  being,  in  the  character  of  supreme  magis- 
trate of  the  universe,  cannot  be  all  love,  or  communicate 
nothing  but  what  is  pleasing  to  all ;  nay,  as  far  as  he  is 
unholy  he  must  have  a  malignant  disposition  towards  the 
public  happiness,  and  be  essentially  deficient  in  benevo- 
Innce. 

V.  What  is  the  justice,  even  the  punitive  justice  of 
God,  but  a  modification  of  love  and  godness  ! 

As  there  is  no  divine  perfection  which  appears  so  ter- 
rible to  offenders  as  this,  which  therefore  they  toil  and 
sweat  to  disprove  or  explain  away,  I  shall  dwell  the 
longer  upon  it.  And  I  hope  to  convince  you  that  justice 
is  not  that  grim,  stern,  tremendous  attribute  which  is  de- 
lineated by  the  guilty,  partial  imagination  of  sinners,  who 
have  made  it  their  interest  that  there  should  be  no  such 
attribute  in  Deity,  but  that  it  is  infinitely  amiable  and 
lovely,  as  well  as  awful  and  majestic  ;  nay,  that  it  is  love 
and  benevolence  itself. 

By  the  punitive  justice  of  God,  I  mean  that  perfection 
of  his  nature  which  executes  the  sentence  of  his  law 
upon  offenders,  or  inflicts  upon  them  the  punishment  he 
had  threatened  to  disobedience,  exactly  according  to 
his  own  denunciation.  The  present  world,  which  is  a 
state  of  trial  and  discipline,  and  not  of  final  rewards  and 
punishments,  is  not  the  proper  theatre  of  vindictive  jus- 
tice, but  of  a  promiscuous  providence  ;  Ml  things  come 
alike  to  all^  and  no  man  can  know  the  love  or  hatred  of 
the  Ruler  of  the  world  towards  him,  by  ali  that  is  before 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  323 

him.  Eccles  ix.  1,  2.  Yet,  sometimes,  even  in  this  life, 
justice  arrests  the  guilty,  and  displays  its  illustrious  ter- 
rors upon  them,  especially  upon  guilty  nations  that  have 
no  existence  in  a  national  capacity  in  the  eternal  world, 
and  therefore  can  be  punished  in  that  capacity  in  this 
only.  It  was  vindictive  justice  that  deluged  the  whole 
world  in  a  flood  of  vengeance  ;  that  kindled  the  flames 
of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah ;  and  that  cut  off  the  nations 
of  Canaan  when  they  had  filled  up  the  measure  of  their 
iniquities.  It  is  justice  that  arms  kingdoms  from  age  to 
age,  and  makes  them  the  executioners  of  divine  wrath 
upon  one  another,  while  they  are  gratifying  their  own 
ambition,  avarice  or  revenge.  The  devastations  of  earth- 
quakes, inundations,  plagues,  epidemical  sicknesses,  fa- 
mines, and  the  various  calamities  in  which  mankind  have 
been  involved,  are  so  many  displays  of  divine  justice  ; 
and  their  being  brought  on  the  world  according  to  the 
course  of  nature,  and  by  means  of  secondary  causes, 
will  by  no  means  prove  that  they  are  not  so_,  but  only 
that  the  very  make  and  constitution  of  this  world  are  so 
planned  and  formed  by  divine  wisdom  as  to  admit  of  the 
execution  of  justice  at  proper  periods,  and  that  all  its 
parts  are  the  instruments  of  justice  to  accomplish  its  de- 
signs. But  these  and  all  the  other  judgments  of  Hea- 
ven upon  our  world  are  only  preludes  and  specimens  of 
the  most  perfect  administration  of  it  in  a  future  state. 
There  the  penalty  of  the  law  will  be  executed  upon  im- 
penitent offenders  with  the  utmost  impartiality.  And 
Revelation  assures  us  that  the  punishment  will  be  end- 
less in  duration,  and  of  as  exquisite  a  kind  and  high  de- 
gree as  the  utmost  capacity  of  the  subject  will  admit  ; 
and  consequently  that  it  will  not,  like  fatherly  chastise- 
ments, have  any  K-ndency  to  their  reformation  or  advan- 
tage, but  to  their  entire  and  everlasting  destruction. 
Now  it  is  this  display  of  punitive  justice  that  appears 
so  terrible  and  cruel  to  the  guilty  children  of  men  ; 
and  therefore  this  is  what  I  shall  principally  endeavor  to 
vindicate  and  to  clothe  with  all  the  gentle  and  amiable 
glories  of  love  and  public  benevolence. 

For  this  end  I  beg  you  would  consider,  that  whatever 
has  a  tendency  to  prevent  sin  tends  to  prevent  misery 
also,  and  to  promote  the  happiness  of  the  world  and  of 
all  the  individuals  in  it ;  that  good  laws  are   absolutely 


324  GOD    IS    LOTK. 

necessary  for  the  prevention  of  sin  ;  that  penal  sanctions 
are  essential  to  good  laws  ;  and  that  the  execution  of  the 
penal  sanctions  upon  offenders  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
their  efficacy  and  good  tendency  5  and  consequently  the 
execution  of  them  is  a  display  of  love  and  benevolence. 

Consider  also,  that  many  are  excited  to  seek  everlast- 
ing happiness,  and  deterred  from  th^  ways  that  lead  down 
to  destruction,  by  means  of  the  tl'  eatenings  of  the  laAV  ; 
that  even  those  on  whom  they  are  finally  executed  were 
once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  immortal  advantage  from 
them,  but  defeated  their  good  influence  and  tendency  by 
their  own  wdlful  obstinacy  :  and  that  the  righteous  exe- 
cution of  these  threatenings  upon  the  incorrigible,  may 
promote  the  common  good  of  the  universe. 

Consider  farther,  that  criminals  are  incompetent  judges 
of  vindictive  justice,  because  they  are  parties ;  and 
therefore  we  should  not  form  an  estimate  of  it  by  their 
prejudices,  but  from  the  judgment  of  the  disinterested 
and  impartial  part  of  the  creation. 

Finally  consider,  that  proceedings  similar  to  those  of 
the  divine  government,  are  not  only  approved  of  as  just 
in  all  human  governments,  but  also  loved  and  admired  as 
amiable  and  praiseworthy,  and  essential  to  the  goodness 
and  benevolence  of  a  ruler. 

Let  us  briefly  illustrate  these  several  classes  of  propo- 
sitions. 

I.  "  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  prevent  sin,  tends  to 
prevent  misery  also,  and  to  promote  the  happiness  of  the 
universe  and  of  all  the  individuals  in  it :  good  laws  are 
absolutely  necessary  for  the  prevention  of  sin  :  penal 
sanctions  are  essential  to  good  laws^  and  the  seasonable 
execution  of  those  sanctions  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
their  efficacy  and  good  tendency  ;  and  consequently  the 
execution  of  them  is  a  display  of  love  and  benevolence." 

"  Whatever  has  a  tendency  to  prevent  sin,  tends  to 
prevent  misery  also,"  and  that  for  this  reason,  because 
sin  is  necessarily  productive  of  misery,  and  destructive 
of  happiness.  Can  a  rational  creature  be  happy  that  is 
disafl!ected  to  the  supreme  good,  the  only  source  of  that 
kind  of  happiness  which  is  adapted  to  a  rational  nature  1 
This  is  as  inripossible  as  that  you  should  enjoy  animal 
pleasures  while  you  abhor  all  animal  enjoyments.  Can 
a  social  creature  be    happy  in   eternal  solitude,  or   in  a 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  325 

slate  of  society,  while  ill-aflected  towards  the  other 
jTiembers  of  society,  or  while  they  are  ill-afiected  to- 
wards him  and  he  to  them,  hateful^  and  hating  one  another  I 
Can  a  creature,  formed  capable  of  felicity  superior  to 
what  any  good  can  communicate,  be  happy  in  the  eager 
pursuit  of  bubbles ;  that  is,  of  its  highest  happiness  in 
inferior  enjoyments  1  All  those  dispositions  of  heart,  and 
the  practices  resulting  from  them,  in  which  sin  consists, 
enmity  to  God,  uneasy  murmurings  and  insurrections 
against  his  perfections,  and  the  government  of  his  law 
and  providence  ;  a  churlish,  malignant,  envious  temper 
towards  mankind;  an  anxious,  excessive  eagerness  of 
desire  after  vain,  unsatisfactory  enjoyments ;  a  disrelish 
for  the  exalted  pleasures  of  holiness  and  benevolence  \ 
what  are  these  and  the  like  dispositions,  but  so  many  in- 
gredients of  misery,  and  so  many  abatements  of  happi- 
ness %  and  consequently  all  measures  that  are  taken  for 
the  prevention  of  sin  are  so  many  benevolent  expedients 
for  the  prevention  of  misery  and  the  increase  of  happi- 
ness. 

I  add,  "  good  laws  are  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
prevention  of  sin."  Indeed  those  dispositions  and  ac- 
tions which  are  sinful  and  forbidden  by  the  divine  law 
would  be  of  a  deadly  nature  to  the  soul,  even  if  they 
were  not  forbidden,  as  a  stab  to  the  heart  would  prove 
mortal  to  the  body,  although  there  were  no  laws  against 
it,  and  for  that  very  reason  laws  have  been  made  against 
it.  Therefore  the  laws  of  God  do  not  properly  constitute 
the  destructive  nature  of  sin,  but  only  point  out  and 
warn  us  against  what  is  destructive  in  its  own  nature 
previous  to  all  explicit  law.  And  is  it  not  absolutely 
necessary,  and  an  act  of  the  highest  benevolence,  that  the 
supreme  Lawgiver  should  warn  us  against  this  pernicious 
evil,  and  plainly  inform  us  what  it  is  \  This  is  the  de- 
sign of  his  laws  both  natural  and  revealed.  And  without 
them,  wdiat  sure  instructer,  what  unerring  guide,  or  what 
stronof  inducements  to  a  proper  conduct  could  we  have 
in  this  most  important  case  \  Is  is  not  necessary,  is  it 
not  kind,  that  the  supreme  Legislator  should  interpose 
his  authority,  and  lay  us  under  the  strongest  obligations 
to  avoid  our  own  ruin  1  And  if  good  laws  are  necessa- 
ry, so  are  penal  sanctions  ;  for  "  penal  sanctions  are  es- 
sential to  good  laws."  Laws  without  penalties  would  be 
28 


326  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

only  the  advices  of  an  equal  or  an  inferior,  and  not  the 
obligatory  commands  of  authority.  They  might  be  ob- 
served or  not,  according  to  pleasure,  and  consequently 
would  answer  no  valuable  purpose.  They  would  also  be 
infinitely  absurd  in  their  own  nature  ;  for  if  what  the  law 
enjoins  be  reasonable,  necessary,  and  of  good  tendency,  is 
it  not  necessary  and  fit  that  they  who  do  not  observe  it 
should  feel  the  bad  effects  of  their  omission  1  And  w^hat 
is  this  but  a  penalty  1  Cut  on  a  point  so  plain  I  need 
not  multiply  words  ;  I  appeal  to  the  common  sense  of 
mankind,  I  appeal  to  the  universal  practice  of  all  govern- 
ments. Have  there  ever  been,  or  can  there  possibly  be 
any  laws  without  penal  sanctions  1  Would  not  such  laws 
be  exposed  to  perpetual  insult  and  contempt,  and  be  des- 
titute of  all  force  and  energy  1  The  common  sense  and 
universal  practice  of  all  the  world,  in  all  ages,  remon 
strate  against  such  an  absurdity.  But  if  penal  sanctions 
are  essential  to  good  laws,  then  so  is  their  execution  ; 
for — 

"  The  seasonable  execution  of  penal  sanctions  is  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  their  efficacy  and  good  tendency." 
Penalties  denounced  can  have  no  efficacy  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  the  law ;  that  is,  they  cannot  excite  fear,  and  by 
that  means  deter  them  from  disobedience,  unless  they 
are  believed,  and  their  execution  expected.  But  they 
would  soon  cease  to  be  believed,  and  their  execution 
would  no  longer  be  expected,  if  in  several  instances  they 
should  be  dispensed  with,  and  a  succession  of  sinners 
should  pass  with  impunity.  Other  sinners,  judging  of 
future  events  by  past  facts,  would  expect  the  same  indul- 
gence, and  therefore  venture  upon  disobedience  without 
any  restraint  from  the  penalty  of  the  law.  Here  again  I 
shall  bring  the  matter  to  a  quick  decision,  by  appealing 
to  the  common  reason  and  universal  practice  of  mankind. 
Would  human  laws  have  any  force  if  the  penalty  was 
hung  up  as  an  empty  terror,  and  never  executed  \  Would 
not  such  laws  be  liable  to  perpetual  violation  and  insult, 
and  become  the  sport  of  daring  offenders  \  Would  not 
the  escapes  of  former  offenders  encourage  all  future  ge- 
nerations to  give  themselves  a-loose,  in  hopes  of  the 
same  exemption  1  Is  it  not  necessary  in  all  governments 
that  public  justice  should  make  examples  of  some,  tc 
warn  and  deter  others  1     Have  not  all  nations,  especially 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  327 

the  more  civilized,  made  such  examples  1  And  have  not 
all  the  impartial  world  commended  their  proceeding  as 
necessary  to  the  safety  and  happiness  of  society,  and  ex- 
pressive of  their  regard  to  the  public  good  1 

View  all  these  things  together,  and  methinks  I  may 
bid  defiance  to  common  sense  to  draw  any  other  conclu- 
sion than  that  the  justice  of  God,  in  executing  the  pe- 
nalties of  his  law  upon  impenitent  offenders,  is  the  height 
of  goodness  and  love.  If  love  requires  that  all  proper 
expedients. by  used  for  the  prevention  of  sin  ;  if  good 
laws  are  necessary  for  this  end  ;  if  penalties  are  essen- 
tial to  good  laws  ;  and  if  the  seasonable  execution  of 
penalties  be  absolutely  necessary  to  give  them  their  be- 
nevolent force  and  good  tendency,  does  it  not  unavoida- 
bly follow,  that  love  itself  requires  both  the  enacting  of 
penal  sanctions  to  the  law  of  God,  and  the  execution  of 
them  upon  proper  subjects  1  Without  this  wholesome 
severity,  the  divine  laws  would  be  less  secure  from  con- 
tempt, and  the  divine  government  would  be  less  favora- 
ble to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  the  subjects  than  the 
laws  and  governments  of  mortals  in  all  civilized  nations. 

"  But  why  does  the  penalty  rise  so  high  '(  Why  is  the 
execution  lengthened  out  through  everlasting  ages  1 
Why  might  not  a  gentler  punishment  suffice  V  This  is 
the  grand  objection  ;  and  in  such  language  as  this  the 
enmity  of  the  rebellious  heart  against  the  justice  of  God 
generally  expresses  itself.  But  if  the  original  design 
and  natural  tendency  of  the  threatened  penalty  be  to 
prevent  sin,  then  by  how  much  severer  the  penalty,  by 
no  much  the  more  effectual  tendency  has  it  to  answer 
this  kind  design  1  No  punishments  can  rise  higher  than 
those  which  a  righteous  God  has  annexed  to  disobedience 
the  natural  source  of  every  misery  ;  and  what  is  this  but 
to  say  that  no  methods  more  eflectual  can  be  taken  to 
prevent  it  than  what  he  has  actually  taken  1  We  may 
therefore  infer  the  ardor  of  the  love  oi:  God  from  the  ter- 
ror of  his  threatenings.  He  has  denounced  the  greatest 
misery  against  sin,  in  order  to  restrain  his  creatures 
from  running  into  that  very  misery  ;  and  threatens  the 
loss  of  heaven,  in  order  to  prevent  his  creatures  from 
losing  it. 

I  must  also  here  repeat  the  common  argument,  which 
appears  to  me  as  valid  as  common  j  "  that  as  the  essence 


328  GOD    IS    LOVE 

of  sin  consists  in  the  breach  of  an  obligation,  the  evil 
of  sin  must  be  exactly  proportioned  to  the  strength  of 
the  obligation :"  that  as  we  are  undoubtedly  under  infi- 
nite obligations  to  a  God  of  infinite  excellency,  our 
Maker,  Ruler,  and  Benefactor,  the  evil  of  sin,  which  vio- 
lates those  obligations,  must  be  infinite  also  ;  and  that  no 
punishment  short  of  w^hat  is  infinite  can  be  adequate  to 
the  demerit  of  an  infinite  evil,  and  consequently  sinners 
ought  to  suffer  a  finite  punishment  through  an  infinite 
duration,  because  that  is  the  only  way  in  which  they 
are  able  to  bear  an  infinit-e  punishment.  But  on  this 
common  topic  a  few  hints  may  suffice. 

I  proceed  to  the  next  set  of  propositions. 

II.  "  That  many  are  excited  to  the  pursuit  of  everlast- 
ing happiness,  and  deterred  from  the  ways  of  destruction, 
by  means  of  threatenings  of  the  divine  law  ;  that  even 
those  unhappy  creatures  on  whom  they  are  finally  exe- 
cuted v/ere  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  immortal 
advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  influence 
and  tendency  by  their  own  wilful  obstinacy  :  and  that 
the  righteous  execution  of  these  threatenings  upon  the 
incorrigible  may  promote  the  common  good  of  the  uni- 
verse." 

"Many  are  excited  to  the  pursuit  of  everlasting  hap- 
piness, and  deterred  from  the  ways  of  destruction,  by 
means  of  the  threatenings  of  the  divine  law."  I  appeal 
to  experience  and  observation,  whether  the  terrors  of 
the  Lord  are  not  the  very  first  thing  that  gives  a  check 
to  sinners  in  their  headlong  career  to  ruin  1  It  is  the 
Lord  that  worketh  wrath^  Rom.  iv.  15  ;  that  is,  an  alarm- 
ing apprehension  of  the  wrath  of  God  against  sin  ;  and 
constrains  them  to  use  the  instituted  means  of  deliver- 
ance. Thus  even  the  terrors  of  the  law  are  made  sub- 
servient to  divine  love,  in  "turning  sinners  from  the 
error  of  their  way,  and  saving  souls  from  death."  And 
could  we  consult  the  glorious  assembly  of  the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect,  they  would  all  own  that  if  their 
heavenly  Father  had  not  threatened  them  so  severely, 
they  would  always  have  continued  undutiful,  and  conse- 
quently rendered  themselves  miserable  ;  and  that  they 
were  saved  from  hell  by  being  honestly  warned  of  the 
danger  of  falling  into  h.  It  is  true  there  are  multitudes 
who  do  not  receive  this  advantage  by  the  penal  sanctions 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  329 

of  the  divine   law,  but  are  made  miserable  for  ever  by 
the  execution  of  them  ;  yet  it  may  be  added, 

"  That  even  those  unhappy  creatures  on  whom  they 
are  executed,  were  once  in  a  capacity  of  receiving  infi- 
nite advantage  from  them,  but  defeated  their  good  in- 
fluence and  tendency  in  their  own  wilful  obstinacy." 
The  threatenings  of  the  divine  law  had  the  same  good 
tendency  in  their  own  nature  with  respect  to  them,  to 
deter  them  from  disobedience,  and  urge  their  pursuit  of 
happiness,  as  with  respect  to  others ;  and  these  were 
some  of  the  means  of  God  appointed  for  their  salvation. 
But  they  hardened  themselves  against  them  and  thus 
defeated  their  good  tendency,  and  obstinately  ruined 
themselves  in  defiance  of  warning :  they  even  forced  a 
passage  into  the  infernal  pit  through  the  strongest  en- 
closures. But  if  they  had  not  been  thus  warned,  they 
not  only  would  not  have  been  saved  in  the  event,  but 
they  would  not  have  enjoyed  the  means  of  salvation. 
Now  their  enjoying  these  means  was  in  itself  an  inex- 
pressible blessing,  though  in  the  issue  it  only  aggravates 
their  misery ;  and  consequentl}^  the  enacting  those 
penalties  to  the  divine  law  was  really  an  act  of  kind- 
ness even  to  them  ;  and  their  abuse  of  the  blessing  does 
not  alter  its  nature.  The  primary  and  direct  end  of  a 
penalty  is  not  the  punishment  of  the  subjects,  but  to 
restrain  them  from  things  injurious  to  themselves,  and 
others,  and  urge  them  to  pursue  their  own  interest.  But 
when  this  good  end  is  not  answered,  by  reason  of  their 
wilful  folly  and  disobedience,  then,  and  not  till  then,  the 
execution  is  necessary  for  the  good  of  others,*  which 
leads  me  to  add, 

"  That   the   righteous  execution    of  the   threatened 
penalty  upon  the    incorrigible  may  promote    the  com- 

*  Penalties,  operate,  like  final  causes,  by  a  kind  of  retrospective  influ- 
ence :  that  is,  whilst  they  are  only  threatened,  and  the  subject  expects 
they  will  be  executed,  should  he  turn  disobedient,  they  have  a  powerful 
tendency,  to  deter  him  from  disobedience.  But  tliey  could  not  nave  this 
benevolent  tendency,  unless  they  be  executed  upon  those,  on  \yhom  their 
primary  and  chief  design  is  not  obtained  ;  namely,  the  restraining  of  them 
Irom  sin.  It  is  enough  that  the  oflTenders  themselves  once  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  taking  warning,  and  reaping  the  advantage  of  the  threatened 
penally,  while  they  were  in  a  stale  of  trial,  and  candidates  for  eternity. 
But  it  is  absurd  that  they  should  receive  any  benefit  from  it,  when,  after 
sufficient  trial,  it  appears  they  will  take  no  warning,  but  are  resolved  to 
persist  in  sin,  in  defiance  of  the  most  tremendous  penalties. 

28* 


330  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

mon  good  of  the  universe."  This  world  of  ours  is  a 
public  theatre,  surrounded  Avith  numerous  spectators, 
who  are  interested  in  its  affairs.  Angels,  in  particular, 
are  witnesses  of  the  proceedings  of  Providence  towards 
mankind  and  thence  learn  the  perfections  of  God,  and 
the  maxims  of  his  government.  Hell  is  also  a  region 
dreadfully  conspicuous  to  them ;  and  there,  no  doubt, 
the  offended  Judge  intend?  to  show  his  wrath,  and  make 
his  power  known  to  them  as  well  as  to  mankind.  Now 
they  are  held  in  obedience  by  rational  motives,  and  not 
by  any  mechanical  compulsion.  And  among  other  mo- 
tives of  a  gentler  kind,  no  doubt  this  is  one  of  no  small 
weight ;  namely,  their  observing  the  destructive  conse- 
quences of  sin  upon  men  and  angels,  and  the  terrible  dis- 
pleasure of  God  against  it.  It  is  not  at  all  inconsistent 
with  their  dignity  and  purity  to  suppose  them  swayed 
by  this  motive  in  a  proper  connection  with  others  of  a 
more  disinterested  and  generous  nature.  Therefore  the 
confirmation  of  the  elect  angels  in  holiness,  and  their 
everlasting  happiness,  is  no  doubt  not  a  little  secured 
and  promoted  by  the  execution  of  righteous  punishment 
upon  some  notorious  hardened  malefactors,  both  of  their 
own  order  and  of  the  human  race. 

The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect  ;  they  are  happily  incapable  of  sinning,  and 
consequently  of  becoming  miserable  ;  but  their  incapa- 
city arises  from  the  clear  conviction  of  their  understand- 
ing, which  has  the  conduct  of  their  will  :  and,  while  sin 
appears  to  them  so  deadly  and  destructive  an  evil,  it  is 
impossible,  according  to  the  make  of  a  rational  nr.'^nre, 
that  they  should  choose  it.  But  the  consequences  of  sin 
upon  the  wretched  creatures  on  whom  the  penalty  de- 
nounced against  it  is  executed,  is  no  doubl  one  thing 
that  affords  them  this  conviction ;  and  so  it  contributes 
to  their  perseverance  in  obedience  and  happiness.  Thus 
the  joys  of  heaven  are  secured  by  the  pains  of  hell,  and 
even  the  most  noxious  criminals,  the  enemies  of  God 
and  his  creatures,  are  not  useless  in  the  universe,  but 
answer  the  terrible  but  benevolent  end  of  warning  all 
other  creatures  against  disobedience  ;  which  would  in- 
volve them  in  the  same  misery,  just  as  the  execution  of 
a  few  malefactors  in  human  governments  is  of  extensive 
service  to  th.e  rest  of  the  subjects. 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  331 

But  as  the  greater  part  of  mankind  perish,  it  may  be 
queried,  "  How  is  it  consistent  with  love  and  goodness, 
that  the  majority  should  be  punished  and  made  monu- 
ments of  justice,  for  the  benefit  of  the  smaller  number  1" 
To  this  I  reply,  that  though  it  be  equally  evident  from 
scripture  and  observation,  that  the  greater  part  of  man- 
kind go  down  to  destruction  in  the  smooth,  broad  de- 
scending road  of  sin,  in  th*:*  ordinary  ages  of  the  world; 
and  though  revelation  assures  us  that  the  number  of  the 
apostate  angels  is  very  great,  yet  I  think  we  have  no  rea- 
son to  conclude  that  the  greater  part  of  the  rational  cre- 
ation shall  be  miserable  ;  nay,  it  is  possible  the  number 
of  those  on  whom  the  penalty  of  the  divine  law  is  inflict- 
ed, may  bear  no  more  proportion  to  that  of  the  innumer- 
able ranks  of  creatures  that  may  be  retained  in  obedi- 
ence and  happiness  by  means  of  their  conspicuous  and 
exemplary  punishment,  than  the  number  of  criminals  ex- 
ecuted in  our  government,  for  the  warning  of  others, 
bears  to  the  rest  of  the  subjects.  If  we  consider  that 
those  who  have  been  redeemed  from  the  earthy  even  in 
the  ordinary  ages  ot  the  world,  though  comparatively 
but  few,  yet  absolutely  are  a  "  multitude  which  no  man 
can  number,  out  of  every  kindred,  and  people,  and  lan- 
guage," Kev.  viii.  9,  and  that  the  elect  angels  arc  aji  in- 
numerahle  company^"^  Heb.  xii.  22,  perhaps  much  greater 
than  the  legions  of  hell ;  if  to  those  we  add  the  prodis 
gious  numbers  that  shall  be  converted  in  that  long  and 
blessed  season  when  Satan  shall  be  bound,  when  the 
prince  of  peace  shall  reign,  and  when  "  the  kingdom  and 
dominion,  and  the  greatness  of  the  kingdom  under  the 
whole  heaven  shall  be  given  to  the  people  of  the  saints 
of  the  Most  High,"  Dan.  vii.  27,  in  which  not  only  the 
greater  number  of  the  generations  that  shall  live  in  that 
glorious  millennium  shall  be  saved,  but  perhaps  a  great- 
er number  than  all  that  perished  in  former  generations, 
which  is  very  possible,  if  we  consider  the  long  continu- 
ance of  that  time,  and  that  the  world  will  then  be  under 
the  peculiar  blessing  of  Heaven,  and  consequently  man 
kind  will  multiply  faster,  and  not  be  diminished  as  they 

*  1  do  not  forget  that  the  original  is  myriads  of  angels.  But  the  word 
is  often,  I  think,  generally  used  in  the  Greek  classics,  not  for  any  definite 
unmber,  but  for  a  great  and  innumerable  multitude.''  And  so  it  is  used 
here. 


332 


GOD    IS    LOYE. 


now  are  by  the  calamities  of  war,  plagues,  epidemical 
sicknesses,  and  the  other  judgments  of  God  upon  those 
times  of  rebellion  ;  if  we  also  borrow  a  little  light  from 
the  hypotliesis  of  philosophy,  and  suppose  that  the  other 
planets  of  our  system  are  peopled  like  our  earth  with 
proper  inhabitants,  and  particularly  with  reasonable  crea- 
tures, (for  he  that  made  those  vast  bodies  made  them,  not 
in  vain,  he  made  them  to  be  inhabited  ;)  if  we  further  sup 
pose  that  each  of  the  innumerable  fixed  stars  is  a  sun, 
the  centre  of  habitable  worlds,  and  that  all  these  worlds, 
like  our  own,  swarm  with  life,  and  particularly  with  va- 
rious classes  of  reasonable  beings,  (which  is  not  at  all 
unlikely,  if  we  argue  from  parity  of  cases,  from  things 
well  known  to  things  less  known,  or  from  the  immense 
everflowing  goodness,  wisdom  and  power  of  the  great 
Creator,  who  can  replenish  the  infinite  voids  of  space 
with  being,  life,  and  reason,  and  with  equal  ease  produce 
and  support  ten  thousand  worlds  as  ten  thousand  grains  ;) 
if  we  suppose  that  his  creative  perfections  will  not  lie 
inactive  for  ever,  contented  Avith  one  exertion  for  six 
days,  but  that  he  still  employs  and  will  employ  them  for 
ever  in  causing  new  worlds,  replenished  with  moral 
agents,  to  start  into  existence  here  and  there  in  the  end- 
less vacancies  of  space  ;  and  finally,  if  we  suppose  that 
the  flames  of  hell  v/ili  blaze  dreadfully  bright  and  con- 
spicuous in  the  view  of  all  present  and  future  creations  ; 
or  that  the  destructive  nature  of  sin  will  be  some  way  or 
another  made  known  to  the  rational  inhabitants  of  all 
worlds  by  the  punishment  inflicted  upon  a  number  of 
men  and  angels,  and  that  by  this  means  they  are  eflect- 
ually  deterred  from  sin,  and  preserved  from  the  misery 
inseparable  from  it ;  I  say,  if  we  admit  these  supposi- 
tions, some  of  which  are  undoubtedly  true,  and  the  rest 
I  think  not  improbable,  then  it  will  follow  that  the  num- 
ber of  holy  and  happy  creatures  in  the  universe  will  be 
incomparably  greater  than  that  of  miserable  criminals 
and  that  the  punishment  of  the  latter  is  one  principal 
mean  of  preserving  this  infinite  number  in  obedience  and 
happiness;  and  consequently  is  highly  conducive  to  the 
public  happiness,  and  expressive  of  the  love  and  good- 
ness of  the  universal  Ruler  to  the  immense  community 
of  his^  subjects.  And  thus  God  is  love,  even  in  the  most 
terrible  displays  of  his  vindictive  justice. 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  333 

To  illustrate  this  subject,  consider  farther  : 
III.  "  That  criminals  are  incompetent  judges  of  vin- 
dictive justice."  They  are  parties,  and  it  is  their  inter- 
est there  should  be  no  such  attribute  as  justice  in  the 
Deity.  It  is  natural  for  them  to  flatter  themselves  that 
their  crimes  are  small ;  that  their  Judge  will  suffer  them 
to  escape  with  impunity,  or  with  a  gentle  punishment, 
and  that  if  he  should  do  otherwise,  he  would  be  unmer- 
ciful, unjust,  and  cruel.  The  excess  of  self-love  sug- 
gests to  them  a  thousand  excuses  and  extenuations  of 
their  guilt,  and  flatters  them  with  a  thousand  favorable 
presumptions.  An  impenitent  criminal  is  always  an  un- 
generous, mean-spirited,  selfish  creature,  and  has  noth- 
ing of  that  noble  disinterested  self-deninl  and  impartiali- 
ty which  would  generously  condemn  himself  and  approve 
of  that  sentence  by  which  he  dies.  A  little  acquaint- 
ance with  the  conduct  of  mankind  will  soon  make  us 
sensible  of  their  partiality  and  WTong  judjrments  in  mat- 
ters where  self  is  concerned  ;  and  particularly  kow  unfit 
they  are  to  form  an  estimate  of  justice  when  themselves 
are  to  stand  as  criminals  at  its  bar.  Now  this  is  the 
case  of  all  mankind  in  the  allair  now  under  considera- 
tion. They  are  criminals  at  the  bar  of  divine  justice  ; 
they  are  the  parties  to  be  tried  ;  they  are  under  the  do- 
minion of  a  selfish  spirit  ;  it  is  natural  to  them  to  palli- 
ate their  own  crimes,  and  to  form  flattering  expectations 
from  the  clemency  of  their  Judge.  And  are  they  fit 
persons  to  prescribe  to  their  judge  how  he  should  deal 
with  them,  or  what  measure  of  punishment  he  ought  to 
inflict  upon  them  1  Sinners  !  dare  you  usurp  this  high 
province  1  Dare  you 

"  Snatch  from  his  hand  the  balance  and  the  rod, 
Rejudge  his  justice,  be  the  god  of  God  !  "  * 

Rather  stand  at  the  bar,  ye  criminals !  that  is  your 
place.  Do  not  dare  to  ascend  the  throne  ;  that  is  the 
place  of  your  Judge.  Stand  silent,  and  await  his  righte- 
ous sentence,  which  is  always  just,  always  best  :  or,  if 
creatures  must  judge  of  the  justice  of  their  Sovereign, 
I  appeal  to  the  saints ;  I  appeal  to  angels,  those  compe- 
tent disinterested  judges ;  I  appeal  to  every  uprig,ht,  im- 

•  Pope's  Essay  on  Man. 


334  GOD    IS    LOVE. 

partial  being  in  the  universe.  They  approve,  they  cele- 
brate, they  adnnire,  and  love  all  the  displays  of  punitive 
justice,  as  necessary  to  the  public  good  :  and  their  judg- 
ment may  be  depended  on  ;  it  is  not  misled  by  ignorance 
nor  perverted  by  self-interest.  To  whom  would  you  ap- 
peal as  judges  of  the  proceedings  of  courts  of  justice 
among  men  1  To  malefactors  in  a  dungeon,  who  have 
made  justice  their  enemy,  and  who  are  therefore  enemies 
to  it  1  No  ;  but  you  would  appeal  to  obedient  subjects, 
who  are  not  obnoxious  to  justice  themselves,  but  enjoy 
protection  under  its  guardianship,  and  are  sensible  of  its 
beauty  and  public  utility.  They  all  approve  it  with  one 
voice,  and  would  look  upon  a  supreme  magistrate  with- 
out it  as  a  very  contemptible  and  odious  character,  and 
essentially  deficient  in  goodness.  Hence  it  follows  that 
even  the  punitive  justice  of  God  not  only  is  in  reality, 
but  to  all  impartial  judges  appears  to  be  a  most  amiable, 
engaging,  and  beneficent  perfection  ;  majestic  indeed, 
but  not  forbidding  ;  awful,  but  not  sullen  and  hateful ; 
terrible,  but  only  to  criminals  ;  and  destructive  only  to 
what  destroys  the  public  good.  I  have  so  far  anticipated 
myself  that  I  need  hardly  add, 

IV.  "  That  proceedings  similar  to  those  of  the  divine 
government  are  not  only  approved  of  as  just  in  all  human 
governments,  but  also  loved  and  admired  as  amiable  and 
praise-worthy,  and  highly  essential  to  the  goodness  and 
benevolence  of  a  ruler." 

Does  the  supreme  Lawgiver  annex  severe  penalties  to 
his  laws,  which  render  the  disobedient  miserable  for  ever  1 
So  do  human  governments,  with  the  unanimous  approba- 
tion of  their  subjects  ;  they  inflict  punishments  that  af- 
fect life,  and  cut  off  the  offender  from  civil  society  for- 
ever ;  and  this  is  the  only  kind  of  everlasting  punishment 
that  can  be  endured  or  executed  by  mortals.  Does  Je- 
hovah maintain  good  order  in  his  immense  empire,  pro- 
tect his  subjects,  and  deter  them  from  offending  by  mak- 
ing examples  of  the  guilty  1  and  does  he  secure  and  ad- 
vance the  good  of  the  whole  by  the  conspicuous  punish- 
ment of  obnoxious  individuals  1  This  is  done  every  day 
for  the  same  ends  in  human  governments,  and  that  with 
universal  approbation!  Does  he  inflict  punishments  that 
are  not  at  all  intended  for  the  reformation  and  advantage 
of  the  guilty   sufTerer,   but  only  for  the  admonition  and 


GOD    IS    I.DVE.  335 

benefit  of  others  1  This  is  always  the  case  in  human 
governments  when  the  punishment  reaches  to  the  life  ; 
for  then  the  offender  himself  is  put  out  of  all  cnpacity  of 
reformation  or  personal  advantaG:e  by  it,  but  he  suffers 
entirely  for  the  good  of  others.  Even  criminals  must  be 
made  useful  to  society  ;  and  this  is  the  only  use  they 
are  fit  to  answer.  Would  it  not  be  inexpedient  and 
greatly  injurious  for  a  magistrate,  in  his  public  charac- 
ter, to  forgive  crimes  and  suffer  criminals  to  escape, 
though  to  do  so  in  a  private  character  might  be  a  virtue  1 
Just  so  God,  who  is  the  supreme.  Magistrate  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  not  at  all  to  be  considered,  in  this  case,  as  a 
private  person  acting  only  in  a  private  character ;  the 
great  God,  I  say,  is  obliged,  by  his  regard  for  his  own 
honor  and  the  benefit  of  his  subjects,  to  inflict  proper 
punishments  and  distribute  his  pardoning  mercy  to  indi- 
viduals consistently  with  the  general  good  of  the  whole. 
V/hat  would  be  revenge  in  a  private  person,  which  is  the 
ruling  passion  of  devils,  is  justice,  lionor,  and  benevo- 
lence itself  in  the  supreme  Ruler  of  the  world ;  and  a 
failure  in  this  would  render  him  not  only  less  glorious 
and  majestic,  but  less  amiable,  less  beneficent  to  his 
creatures. 

I  know  hardly  any  thing  of  so  much  importance  to 
give  us  just  sentiments  of  the  proceedings  of  God  wdth 
his  creatures,  as  that  w^e  should  conceive  of  him  as  a 
moral  Ruler,  or  the  supreme  Magistrate  of  the  world. 
And  it  is  owing  to  their  not  considering  him  in  this  cha- 
racter that  sinners  indulge  such  mistaken,  dangerous 
presumptions  concerning  him.  They  choose  to  con- 
ceive of  him  under  some  fond  and  tender  name,  as  a 
Being  of  infinite  grace,  the  indulgent  Father  of  his  crea- 
tures, &c.  All  this  is  true  ;  but  it  is  equally  true  that 
he  is  their  moral  Ruler  as  well  as  their  Father.  His 
creatures  are  his  subjects  as  well  as  his  children  ;  and 
he  must  act  the  wise  and  righteous  Magistrate  as  well 
as  the  tender  Father  towards  them.  His  goodness  is  that 
of  a  Ruler,  and  not  of  a  private  person  ;  and  his  pardon- 
ing of  sin  and  receiving  offenders  into  favor,  are  not  pri- 
vate kindnesses,  but  acts  of  government,  and  therefore 
they  mxust  be  conducted  with  the  utmost  wisdom  ;  for  a 
w^rons"   step   in  his  infinite  administration,  which  affects 


336  GOD    JS    LOVE. 

such  innumerable  multitudes  of  subjects,  would  be  an 
infinite  evil,  and  might  admit  of  no  reparation. 

Though  I  have  thus  enlarged  upon  this  subject,  yet  1 
am  far  from  exhausting  my  materials.  But  these  things,  1 
hope,  are  sufficient  to  convince  your  understandings  that 
divine  justice  is  not  that  unkind,  cruel,  and  savage  thing 
sinners  are  wont  to  imagine  it  ;  but  that  God  is  just,  be- 
cause God  is  love  ;  and  that  he  punishes  not  because  he 
is  the  enemy,  but  because  he  is  the  friend  of  his  crea- 
tures, and  because  he  loves  the  whole  too  well  to  let 
particular  offenders  do  mischief  with  impunity.* 

I  shall  only  add,  that  this  is  the  view  Jehovah  has 
given  of  himself  in  the  clearest  manifestation  of  his  per- 
fections that  he  ever  made  to  mortals.  He  promises  his 
favorite  Moses,  that  he  would  make  all  his  goodness  pass 
before  him.  Observe,  it  is  his  goodness  he  intends  to 
exhibit  ;  and  the  proclamation  runs  thus  :  "  The  Lord, 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long-suffering,  for- 
giving iniquity,"  &c.  That  these  are  acts  or  modifica- 
tions of  goodness,  will  be  easily  granted.  But  observe, 
it  is  added  even  in  this  proclamation  of  his  goodness, 
That  he  will  by  no  means  clear  the  guilty  :  intimating,  that 
to  be  just  and  punish  sin  is  an  act  of  goodness,  as  well 
as  to  be  merciful  and  to  forgive  it. 

And  nov/  when  we  have  this  copious  subject  in  review, 
does  it  not  suggest  to  us  such  conclusions  as  these : 

L  May  we  not  conclude  that  the  case  of  impenitent 
sinners  is  desperate  indeed,  when  it  is  not  excessive  ri- 
gor, not  a  malignity  of  temper,  nor  tyranny,  or  a  savage 
delight  in  torture  that  condemns  them,  but  goodness  itself, 
love  itselfl  Even  the  gentler  perfections  of  the  Deity, 
those  from  which  they  derive  their  presumptuous  hopes, 

•  It  may  perhaps  be  objected,  *'  That  to  represent  justice  under  the  no- 
tion of  love  IS  to  affect  singularity  in  language,  to  destroy  the  distinction 
of  the  divine  attributes,  and  tlie  essential  difference  of  things." — To  whicli 
I  answer,  1.  That  a  catachresis  may  be  beautiful  and  emphatical,  though 
it  be  always  a  seeming  impropriety  in  language.  Such  is  this  represent- 
ation, "  Divine  justice,  divine  love."  2.  I  do  not  deny  that  God's  exe- 
cuting righteous  punishment  upon  the  guilty  may  be  called  justice  ;  but 
then  It  is  his  love  to  the  public  that  excites  him  to  do  this  ;  and  there- 
fore his  doing  it  may  be  properly  denominated  love,  as  well  as  justice, 
or  love  under  the  name  of  justice,  which  is  love  still.  3.  I  do  not  mean 
that  the  usual  names  of  things  should  be  changed,  but  that  we  should  afiix 
suitable  ideas  to  them.  We  may  retain  the  name  of  justice  still,  but  let 
us  not  affix  ideas  to  it  that  are  inconsistent  with  divine  love.  Let  us  not 
look  upon  it  as  the  attribute  of  a  tyrant,  but  of  a  wise  and  good  ruler. 


GOD    IS    LOVE.  337 

are  conspired  against  ihcin,  and  unite  their  forces  to  render 
them  miserable,  in  order  to  prevent  greater  misery  from 
spreading-  through  the  universe.  Impenitent  sinners  ! 
even  the  unbounded  love  of  God  to  his  creatures  is  your 
enemy.  Love,  under  the  name  and  form  of  justice, 
which  is  equally  love  stiil,  demands  your  execution  ;  and 
to  suffer  you  to  escape  would  not  only  be  an  act  of  in- 
justice, but  an  act  of  malignity  and  hostility  against  the 
whole  system  of  rational  beings.  Therefore  repent  and 
be  holy,  otherwise  divine  love  will  not  suffer  you  to  be 
happy.  God  is  love  ;  therefore  will  he  confine  you  in  the 
infernal  prison,  as  a  regard  to  the  public  welfare  in  hu- 
man governments  shuts  up  criminals  in  a  dungeon,  and 
madmen  in  Bedlam. 

II.  May  we  not  hence  conclude  that  all  the  acts  of  the 
Deity  may  be  resolved  into  the  benevolent  principle  of 
love  ]  God  is  love  ;  therefore  he  made  this  vast  universe, 
and  planted  it  so  thick  with  variegated  life.  God  in  love  ; 
therefore  he  still  rules  the  world  he  has  made,  and  in- 
flicts chastisements  and  judgments  upon  it  fror.i  every 
age.  God  is  love  ;  therefore  he  spared  not  hi:,  own  Son, 
but  made  him  the  victim  of  his  justice.  God  is  love  ; 
therefore  he  requires  perfect  holiness,  perfect  obedience 
from  all  his  subjects.  God  is  love  ;  therefore  he  has 
enacted  such  tremendous  sanctions  to  his  law,  and  exe- 
cutes them  in  their  full  extent  upon  offenders.  God  is 
love  ;  therefore  he  has  made  the  prison  of  hell,  and  there 
confines  in  chains  of  everlasting  darkness  those  malevo- 
lent creatures,  that  would  be  a  nuisance  to  society,  and 
public  mischiefs,  if  suffered  to  run  at  large.  In  short, 
whatever  he  does,  he  does  it  because  he  is  love.  How 
amiable  a  view  of  him  is  this  I  Therefore, 

III.  We  may  certainly  conclude  that  if  God  be  love, 
then  all  his  creatures  ought  to  love  him.  Love  him,  O 
all  ye  inhabitants  of  heaven  !  But  they  need  not  my 
exhortation  ;  they  know  him,  and  therefore  cannot  but 
love  him.  Love  him,  all  ye  inhabitants  of  the  planetary 
worlds ;  if  such  there  be.  These  also  I  hope  need  no 
exhortation,  for  we  would  willingly  persuade  ourselves 
that  other  territories  of  this  immense  empire  have  not 
rebelled  against  him  as  this  earth  has  done.  Love  him, 
0  ye  children  of  men  !  To  you  I  call :  but  O  !  I  fear  I 
shall  call  in  vain.     To  love  him   who   is  all  love  is  the 

ii9 


338  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

most  hopeless  proposal  one  can  make  to  the  world.  But 
whatever  others  do,  love  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  saints  ! 
You  I  know  cannot  resist  the  motion.  Surely  your  love 
even  now  is  all  on  fire.  Love  the  Lord,  0  my  soul  ! 
Amen. 


SERMON  XIX. 

THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

John  v  .  28,  29. — The  hour  is  coming  in  the  which  all  that 
are  in  the  grave  shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ; 
they  that  have  done  good,  unto  the  resurrection  of  life  : 
and  they  that  have  done  evil,  to  the  resurrection  of  dam- 
nation. 

Ever  since  sin  entered  into  the  world  and  death  hy 
sin,  this  earth  has  been  a  vast  grave-yard,  or  burying- 
place,  for  her  children.  In  every  age,  and  in  every 
country,  that  sentence  has  been  executing,  Dust  thou  art, 
and  unto  dust  thou  shalt  return.  The  earth  has  been 
arched  with  graves,  the  last  lodgings  of  mortals,  and  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean  paved  with  the  bones  of  men.*  Hu- 
man nature  was  at  first  confined  to  one  pair,  but  how 
soon  and  how  wide  did  it  spread  !  How  inconceivably 
numerous  are  the  sons  of  Adam  !  How  many  different 
nations  on  our  globe  contain  many  millions  of  men  even 
in  one  generation !  And  how  many  generations  have 
succeeded  one  another  in  the  long  run  of  near  six  thou- 
sand years !  Let  imagination  call  up  this  vast  army  : 
children  that  just  light  upon  our  globe,  and  then  wing 
their  flight  into  an  unknown  world  ;  the  gray -headed  that 
have  had  a  long  journey  through  life ;  the  blooming 
youth  and  the  middle-aged,  let  them  pass  in  review  be- 
fore us  from  all  countries  and  from  all  ages  ;  and  how  vast 
and  astonishing  the  multitude  !  If  the  posterity  of  one 
man  (Abraham)  by  one  son  was,  according  to  the  divine 

•  No  spot  on  earth  but  has  supply'd  a  grave  ; 
And  human  sciiUs  the  spacious  ocean  pave. — Youitg. 


THE    GENERAL    KESURRECTION.  339 

promise,  as  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  as  the  sand  by  the 
sea-shore,  innumerable,  what  numbers  can  compute 
the  multitudes  that  have  sprung  from  all  the  patriarchs, 
the  sons  of  Adam  and  Noah  !  But  what  is  become  of 
them  all  l  Alas  !  they  are  turned  into  earth,  their  ori- 
ginal element ;  they  are  all  imprisoned  in  the  grave, 
except  the  present  generation,  and  we  are  diopping 
one  after  another  in  quick  succession  into  that  place 
appointed  for  all  living.  There  has  not  been  perhaps  a 
moment  of  time  for  five  thousand  years,  but  what  some 
one  or  other  has  sunk  into  the  mansions  of  the  dead ; 
and  in  some  fatal  hours,  by  the  sword  of  war  or  the  de- 
vouring jaws  of  earthquakes,  thousands  have  been  cut 
off  and  swept  aw^ay  at  once,  and  left  in  one  huge  promis- 
cuous carnage.  The  greatest  number  of  mankind  be- 
yond comparison  are  sleeping  under  ground.  There  lies 
beauty  mouldering  into  dust,  rotting  into  stench  and 
loathsomeness,  and  feeding  the  vilest  w^orms.  There 
lies  the  head  that  once  wore  a  crown,  as  low  and  con- 
temptible as  the  meanest  beggar.  There  lie  the  mighty 
giants,  the  heroes  and  conquerors,  the  Samsons,  the 
Ajaxes,  the  Alexanders,  and  the  Caesars  of  the  world ! 
there  they  lie  stupid,  senseless,  and  inactive,  and  unable 
to  drive  off  the  worms  that  riot  on  their  marrow,  and 
make  their  houses  in  those  sockets  where  the  eyes  spar- 
kled with  living  lustre.  There  lie  the  wise  and  the 
learned,  as  rotten,  as  helpless  as  the  fool.  There  lie 
some  that  we  once  conversed  with,  some  that  were  our 
friends,  our  companions  ;  and  there  lie  our  fathers  and 
mothers,  our  brothers  and  sisters. 

And  shall  they  lie  there  always  1  Shall  this  body,  this 
curious  w^orkmanship  of  Heaven,  so  wonderfully  and 
fearfully  made,  always  lie  in  ruins,  and  never  be  repair- 
ed 1  Shall  the  wide-extended  valleys  of  dry  bones  never 
more  live  1  This  we  know,  that  it  is  not  a  thing  impossi- 
ble with  God  to  raise  the  dead.  He  that  could  first  form 
our  bodies  out  of  nothing,  is  certainly  able  to  form  them 
anew,  and  repair  the  wastes  of  time  and  death.  But 
what  is  his  declared  will  in  this  case  1  On  this  the  mat- 
ter turns  ;  and  this  is  fully  revealed  in  my  text.  "  The 
hour  is  coming,  when  all  that  are  in  the  graves,"  all  that 
arc  dead,  without  exception,  "  shall  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  shall  come  forth." 


340  THE    GENERAL    3ESTJBRECTI0N. 

And  for  what  end  shall  they  come  forth  1  0!  for 
very  different  purposes ;  "  some  to  the  resurrection  of 
life  5  and  some  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 

And  what  is  the  ground  of  this  vast  distinction  1  Or 
what  is  the  difference  in  character  between  those  that 
shall  receive  so  different  a  dooml  It  is  this,  "They 
that  'iave  done  good  shall  rise  to  life,  and  they  that  have 
done  evil  to  damnation."  It  is  this,  and  this  only,  that 
will  then  be  the  rule  of  distinction. 

I  would  avoid  all  art  in  my  method  of  handling  this 
subject,  and  intend  only  to  illustrate  the  several  parts  of 
the  text.  "  All  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his 
voice,  and  shall  come  forth ;  they  that  have  done  well, 
to  the  resurrection  of  life  ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil, 
to  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 

I.  They  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice. 
The  voice  of  the  Son  of  God  here  probably  means  the 
sound  of  the  archangel's  trumpet,  which  is  called  his 
voice,  because  sounded  by  his  orders  and  attended  with 
his  all-quickening  power.  This  ail-wakening  call  to  the 
tenants  of  the  grave  we  frequently  find  foretold  in  scrip- 
ture. I  shall  refer  you  to  two  plain  passages.  Behold^ 
says  St.  Paul,  /  show  you  a  mystery^  an  important  and  as- 
tonishing secret,  we  shall  not  all  sleep  ;  that  is  mankind 
will  not  all  be  sleeping  in  death  when  that  day  comes  ; 
there  will  be  a  generation  then  alive  upon  the  earth ;  and 
though  they  cannot  have  a  proper  resurrection,  yet  they 
shall  pass  through  a  change  equivalent  to  it.  "  We  shall 
all  be  changed,"  says  he,  "  in  a  moment,  in  the  twink- 
ling of  an  eye,  at  the  last  trump,  for  the  trumpet  shall 
sound,"  it  shall  give  the  alarm  ;  and  no  sooner  is  the 
awful  clangor  heard  than  all  the  living  shall  be  trans- 
formed into  immortals  ;  and  the  dead  shall  be  raised  incoT' 
ruptible  ;  and  we,  who  are  then  alive^  shall  be  changed,  1 
Cor.  XV.  51,52;  this  is  all  the  difference,  they  shall  he 
raised,  and  we  shall  be  changed.  This  awful  prelude  of 
the  trumpet  is  also  mentioned  in  1  Thess.  iv.  15,  16. 
"  We  which  are  alive  and  remain  unto  the  coming  of  the 
Lord,  shall  not  prevent  them  which  are  asleep  ;"  that  is, 
we  shall  not  be  beforehand  with  them  in  meeting  our  de- 
scending Lord,  "  for  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archangels, 
and  with  the  trump  of  God ;"  that  is,  with   a  godlike 


THE    GE^'ERAL    Tk-ESURKECTION.  341 

trump,  such  as  it  becomes  his  majesty  to  sound,  and  the 
dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first :  that  is,  before  the  hving 
shall  be  caught  up  in  the  clouds  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the 
air  :  and  when  they  are  risen,  and  the  living-  transformed, 
they  shall  ascend  together  to  the  place  of  judgment. 

My  brethren,  realize  the  majesty  and  terror  of  this 
universal  alarm.  When  the  dead  are  sleeping  in  the  si- 
lent grave  ;  when  the  living  arc  thoughtless  and  unap- 
prehensive of  the  grand  event,  or  intent  on  other  pur- 
suits ;  some  of  them  asleep  in  the  dead  of  night  ;  some 
of  them  dissolved  in  sensual  pleasures,  eating  and  drink- 
ing, marrying  and  giving  in  marriage  ;  some  of  them 
planning  or  executing  schemes  for  riches  or  honors  ; 
some  in  the  very  act  of  sin  ;  the  generality  stupid  and 
careless  about  the  concerns  of  eternitj',  and  the  dreadful 
day  just  at  hand  ;  and  a  few  here  and  there  conversing 
with  their  God,  and  "  looking  for  the  glorious  appearance 
of  their  Lord  and  Savior  ;^'  when  the  course  of  nature  runs 
on  uniform  and  regular  as  usual,  and  infidel  scoffers  are 
taking  um.brage  from  thence  to  ask,  "  Where  is  the  pro- 
mise of  his  coming  \  for  since  the  fathers  fell  asleep,  all 
things  continue  as  they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the 
creation."  2  Pet.  iii.  4.  In  short,  when  there  are  no 
more  visible  appearances  of  this  approaching  day,  than 
of  the  destruction  of  Sodom  on  that  fine  clear  morning 
in  which  Lot  fled  av/ay ;  or  of  the  deluge,  when  Noah 
entered  into  the  ark  ;  then  in  that  hour  of  unapprehensive 
security,  then  suddenly  shall  the  heavens  open  over  the 
astonished  world ;  then  shall  the  all-alarming  clangor 
break  over  their  heads  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  a  clear 
sky.  Immediately  the  living  turn  their  gazing  eyes  upon 
the  amazing  phenomenon  ;  a  few  hear  the  long-expected 
sound  with  rapture,  and  lift  up  their  heads  with  joy,  as- 
sured that  the  day  of  their  redemption  is  come^  while  the 
thoughtless  world  are  struck  Avith  the  wildest  horror  and 
consternation.  In  the  same  instant  the  sound  reaches 
all  the  mansions  of  the  dead,  and  in  a  moment,  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  they  are  raised,  and  the  living  are 
changed.  This  call  will  be  as  animating  to  all  the  sons 
of  men,  as  that  call  to  a  single  person,  Lazarus^  come 
forth.  O  what  a  surprise  will  this  be  to  a  thoughtless 
world !  Should  this  alarm  burst  over  our  heads  this  mo- 
ment, into  what  a  terror  would  it  strike  many  in  this  as- 
29* 


342  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

sembly  1  Such  will  be  the  terror,  such  the  consterna- 
tion, when  it  actually  conies  to  pass.  Sinners  will  be  the 
same  timorous,  self-condemned  creatures  then,  as  they  are 
now.  And  then  they  will  not  be  able  to  stop  their  ears, 
who  are  deaf  to  all  the  gentler  calls  of  the  gospel  now. 
Then  the  trump  of  God  will  constrain  them  to  hear  and 
fear,  to  whom  the  ministers  of  Christ  now  preach  in 
vain.     Then  they  must  all  hear,  for, 

II.  My  text  tells  you,  all  that  are  in  the  graves,  all 
without  exception,  shall  hear  his  voice.  Now  the  voice 
of  mercy  calls,  reason  pleads,  conscience  warns,  but  mul- 
titudes will  not  hear.  But  this  is  a  voice  which  shall, 
which  must  reach  every  one  of  the  millions  of  mankind, 
and  not  one  of  them  will  be  able  to  stop  his  ears.  Infants 
and  giants,  kings  and  subjects,  all  ranks,  all  ages  of 
mankind  shall  hear  the  call.  The  living  shall  start  and 
be  changed,  and  the  dead  rise  at  the  sound.  The  dust 
that  was  once  alive  and  formed  a  human  body,  whether 
it  flies  in  the  air,  floats  in  the  ocean,  or  vegetates  on 
earth,  shall  hear  the  new-creating  fiat.  Wherever  the 
fragments  of  the  human  frame  are  scattered,  this  all-pe- 
netrating call  shall  reach  and  speak  them  into  life.  We 
may  consider  this  voice  as  a  summons  not  only  to  dead 
bodies  to  rise,  but  to  the  souls  that  once  animated  them, 
to  appear  and  be  re-united  to  them,  whether  in  heaven 
or  hell.  To  the  grave,  the  call  will  be.  Arise,  ye  dead, 
and  come  to  judgmeiit  ;  to  heaven,  ye  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect  ;  "  descend  to  the  world  whence  you  origin- 
ally came  ;  and  assume  your  new-formed  bodies  :"  to 
hell,  "  Come  forth  and  appear,  ye  damned  ghosts,  ye  pri- 
soners of  darkness,  and  be  again  united  to  the  bodies  in 
which  you  once  sinned,  that  in  them  ye  may  now  suffer." 
Thus  will  this  summons  spread  through  every  corner  of 
the  universe  ;  and  heaven,  earth  and  hell,  and  all  their 
inhabitants,  shall  hear  and  obey.  Devils,  as  well  as  sin- 
ners of  our  race,  will  tremble  at  the  sound ;  for  now 
they  know  they  can  plead  no  more  as  they  once  did, 
Torment  us  not  before  the  time  ;  for  the  time  is  come,  and 
they  must  mingle  with  the  prisoners  at  the  bar.  And 
now  when  all  that  arc  in  the  graves  hear  this  all-quick- 
ening voice, 

III.  They  shall  come  forth.    Now  methinks  I  see,  I  hear 
the  earth  heaving,  charnel-houses  rattling,  tombs  burst- 


THE    GENERAL    HESURRECTIO.V,  343 

ing,  graves  opening.  Now  the  nations  under  ground  be- 
gin to  stir.  There  is  a  noise  and  a  shaking  among  the 
dry  bones.  The  dust  is  all  alive,  and  in  motion,  and  the 
globe  breaks  and  trembles,  as  with  an  earthquake,  while 
this  vast  army  is  working  its  way  through  and  bursting 
into  life.  The  ruins  of  human  bodies  are  scattered  far 
and  wide,  and  have  passed  through  many  and  surprising 
transformations.  A  limb  in  one  country,  and  another  in 
another  ;  here  the  head  and  there  the  trunk,  and  the 
ocean  rolling  between.*  Multitudes  have  sunk  in  a 
watery  grave,  been  swallowed  up  by  the  monsters  of  the 
deep,  and  transformed  into  a  part  of  their  flesh.  Multi- 
tudes have  been  eaten  by  beasts  and  birds  of  prey,  and 
incorporated  with  them  ;  and  some  have  been  devoured 
by  their  fellow-men  in  the  rage  of  a  desperate  hunger, 
or  of  unnatural  cannibal  appetite,  and  digested  into  a 
part  of  them.  Multitudes  have  mouldered  into  dust,  and 
this  dust  has  been  blown  about  by  winds,  and  washed 
away  with  water,  or  it  has  petrified  into  stone,  or  been 
burnt  into  brick  to  form  dwellings  for  their  posterity ;  or 
it  has  grown  up  in  grain,  trees,  plants,  and  other  vegeta- 
bles, which  are  the  support  of  man  and  beast,  and  are 
transformed  into  their  flesh  and  bl-ood.  But  through  all 
these  various  transformations  and  changes,  not  a  particle 
that  was  essential  to  one  human  body  has  been  lost,  or 
incorporated  with  another  human  body,  so  as  to  become 
an  essential  part  of  it.  And  as  to  those  particles  that 
were  not  essential,  they  are  not  necessary  to  the  identity 
of  the  body  or  of  the  person  ;  and  therefore  we  need 
not  think  they  will  be  raised  again.  The  omniscient 
God  knows  how  to  collect,  distinguish,  and  compound 
all  those  scattered  and  mingled  seeds  of  our  mortal  bo- 
dies. And  now  at  the  sound  of  the  trumpet,  they  shall 
all  be  collected,  wherever  they  were  scattered  ;  all  pro- 
perly sorted  and  united,  however  they  were  confused  ; 
atom  to  its  fellow-atom,  bone  to  its  fellow-bone.  Now 
methinks  you  may  see  the  air  darkened  with  fragments 
of  bodies  flying  from  country  to  country,  to  meet  and 
join  their  proper  parts  : 

*  This  was  the  Aite  of  Pompey,  who  was  slain  on  the  African  shore. 
His  bodj'  was  left  there,  and  his  head  carried  over  the  Mediterranean  to 
Julius  Caesar, 


344  THE    GENERAL    RESURKECTION. 


-"  Scalter'd  limbs,  and  all 


The  various  bones  obsequious  to  the  call, 
Self-mov'd,  advance  ;  the  neck  perhaps  to  meet 
The  distant  head,  the  distant  legs,  the  feet. 
Dreadlul  to  view,  see  through  tiie  dusky  sky 
Fragments  of  bodies  in  confusion  fly, 
To  distant  regions  journeying,  there  to  claim 
Deserted  members,  and  complete  the  frame — 
The  sever'd  head  and  trunk  shall  join  once  more, 
Tho'  realms  now  rise  between,  and  oceans  roar. 
The  trumpet's  sound  each  vagrant  mote  shall  hear, 
Or  fixt  in  earth,  or  if  afloat  in  air, 
Obey  the  signal,  wafled  in  the  wind, 
And  not  one  sleeping  atom  lag  behind." — * 
All  hear  :  and  now,  in  fairer  prospect  shown, 
Limb  clings  to  limb,  and  botre  rejoins  its  bone.'' — f 

Then,  my  brethren,  your  dust  and  mine  shall  be  rean- 
imated and  organized ;  "  and  though  after  our  skin 
worms  destroy  these  bodies,  yet  in  our  flesh  shall  we  see 
God."  Job  xix.  16. 

And  what  a  vast  improvement  will  the  frail  nature  of 
man  then  receive  1  Our  bodies  will  then  be  substantially 
the  same  ;  but  how  different  in  qualities,  in  strength,  in 
agility,  in  capacities  for  pleasure  or  pain,  in  beauty  or 
deformity,  in  glory  or   terror,   according  to  the  moral 

*  Young's  Last  Day,  Book  IL 

t  Th<'se  two  last  lines  are  taken  from  a  poem,  which  is  a  lively  imita- 
tion of  Dr.  Young,  entitled,  The  Bay  of  Judgment,  ascribed  to  Mr.  Ogil- 
vie,  a  promising  young  genius  of  Aberdeen,  in  Scotland,  not  above  nine 
teen  years  of  age,  as  I  was  informed,  when  he  composed  this  poem,  Th« 
lines  preceding  these  quoted  are  as  follows : 

O'er  boiling  waves  the  severed  members  swim, 

Each  breeze  is  loaded  with  a  broken  limb  : 

The  living  atoms,  with  peculiar  care. 

Drawn  from  their  cells,  come  flying  thro'  the  air. 

Where'er  they  lurk'd,  thro'  ages  undecay'd, 

Deep  in  the  rock,  or  cloth'd  some  smiling  mead  ; 

Or  in  the  lily's  snowy  bosom  grew, 

Or  ting'd  the  sapphire  with  its  lovely  blue  ; 

Or  in  some  purlmg  stream  refresh'd  the  plains  ; 

Or  form'd  the  mountain's  adamantine  veins  ; 


Or  gaily  s 
Perfu     ' " 


pily  sporting  in  the  breathing  spring, 
um'd  tne  whisp'ring  zephyr's  balmy  wing- 


The  thought  seems  to  be  borrowed  from  Mr.  Addison's  fine  Latin  poem 
on  the  resurrection,  in  which  are  the  following  beautiful  lines: 

Jam  pulvis  varias  terrae  dispersa  per  oras, 
Sive  mter  venas  teneri  concieta  metalli, 
Sensinri  diriguit,  seu  scse  immiscuil  herbis, 
Explicita  est  ;  molem  rursus  coalescit  in  unam 
Divisum  Funus,  sparsos  prior  alligat  artus 
Junctura,  apta-iti'.rqur' ;  ilrrum  coenntia  membra. 


THE    GENERAL    RESUKRECTION.  345 

character  of  the  persons  to  whom  tliey  belong  1  Matter, 
we  know,  is  capable  of  prodigious  alterations  and  refine- 
ments ;  and  there  it  will  appear  in  the  highest  perfec- 
tion. The  bodies  of  the  saints  will  be  formed  glorious, 
incorruptible,  without  the  seeds  of  sickness  and  death. 
The  glorified  body  of  Christ,  which  is  undoubtedly  carried 
to  the  highest  perfection  that  matter  is  capable  of,  will 
be  the  pattern  after  which  they  shall  be  formed.  He  will 
change  our  vile  lody^  says  St.  Paul,  that  it  may  be  fashion- 
ed like  unto  his  glorious  body.  Phil.  iii.  21.  "  Flesh  and 
blood,"  in  their  present  state  of  grossness  and  frailty, 
"  cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  :  neither  doth  cor- 
ruption inherit  incorruption.  But  this  corruptible  body 
must  put  on  incorruption ;  and  this  mortal  must  put  or 
immortality."  Cor.  xv.  50,  53.  And  how  vast  the 
change,  how  high  the  improvement  from  this  present 
state!  "  It  was  sown  in  corruption,  it  shall  be  raised 
in  incorruption ;  it  was  sown  in  dishonor,  it  shall  be 
raised  in  glory  ;  it  was  sown  in  weakness,  it  shall  be 
raised  in  power,"  verses  42,  43,  &;c.  Then  will  the 
body  be  able  to  bear  up  under  the  exceeding  great  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory ;  it  will  no  longer  be  a  clog  or 
an  incumbrance  to  the  soul,  but  a  proper  instrument  and 
assistant  in  all  the  exalted  services  and  enjoyments  of 
the  heavenly  state. 

The  bodies  of  the  wicked  will  also  be  improved,  but 
their  improvements  will  all  be  terrible  and  vindictive. 
Their  capacities  will  be  thoroughly  enlarged,  but  then  it 
will  be  that  they  may  be  made  capable  of  greater  mise- 
ry :  they  will  be  strengthened,  but  it  will  be  that  they 
may  bear  the  heavier  load  of  torment.  Their  sensations 
will  be  more  quick  and  strong,  but  it  will  be  that  they 
may  feel  the  more  exquisite  pain.  They  will  be  raised 
immortal  that  they  may  not  be  consumed  by  everlasting 
fire,  or  escape  punishment  by  dissolution  or  annihilation. 
Iq  short,  their  augmented  strength,  their  enlarged  capa- 
cities, and  their  immortality,  will  be  their  eternal  curse  ; 
and  they  would  willingly  exchange  them  for  the  fleeting 
duration  of  a  fading  flower,  or  the  faint  sensations  of  an 
infant.  The  only  power  they  would  rejoice  in  is  that 
of  self-annihilation. 

And  now  when  the  bodies  are  completely  formed  and 
fit  to  be  inhabited,  the   souls  that  once  animated  them, 


346  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

being  collected  from  Heaven  and  Hell,  re-enter  and  take 
possession  of  their  old  mansions.  They  are  united  in 
bonds  which  shall  never  more  be  dissolved  :  and  the 
mouldering  tabernacles  are  now  become  everlasting  hab- 
itations.. 

And  with  what  joy  will  the  spirits  of  the  righteous 
welcome  their  old  companions  from  their  long  sleep  in 
the  dust,  and  congratulate  their  glorious  resurrection  ! 
How  will  they  rejoice  to  re-enter  their  old  habitations, 
now  so  completely  repaired  and  highly  improved!  to 
find  those  bodies  which  were  once  their  incumbrance, 
onc-e  frail  and  mortal,  in  which  they  were  imprisoned, 
and  languished,  once  their  temptation,  tainted  with  the 
seeds  of  sin,  now  their  assistants  and  co-partners  in  the 
business  of  heaven,  now  vigorous,  incorruptible,  and  im- 
mortal, now  free  from  all  corrupt  mixtures,  and  shining 
in  all  the  beauties  of  perfect  holiness  1  In  these  bodies 
they  once  served  their  God  with  honest  though  feeble 
efforts,  conflicted  with  sin  and  temptation,  and  passed 
through  all  the  united  trials  and  hardships  of  mortality 
and  the  Christian  life.  But  now  they  are  united  to  them 
for  more  exalted  and  blissful  purposes.  The  lungs  that 
were  wont  to  heave  with  penitential  sighs  and  groans^ 
shall  now  shout  forth  their  joys  and  the  praises  of  their 
God  and  Savior.  The  heart  that  was  once  broken  with 
sorrows  shall  now  be  bound  up  for  ever,  and  overflow 
with  immortal  pleasures.  Those  very  eyes  that  were 
wont  to  run  down  with  tears,  and  to  behold  many  a  tra- 
gical sight,  shall  now  behold  the  King  in  his  beauty^  shall 
behold  the  Savior  whom,  though  unseen,  they  loved,  and 
all  the  glories  of  heaven ;  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all 
their  tears.  All  the  senses,  which  were  once  avenues 
of  pain,  shall  now  be  inlets  of  the  most  exalted  pleasure 
In  short,  every  organ,  every  member  shall  be  employed 
in  the  most  noble  services  and  enjoyments,  instead  of 
the  sordid  and  laborious  drudgery,  and  the  painful  suffer- 
ings of  the  present  state.  Blessed  change  indeed  !  Re- 
joice, ye  cliildren  of  God,  in  the  prospect"  of  it. 

But  how  shall  I  glance  a  thought  upon  the  dreadful 
case  of  the  wicked  in  that  tremendous  day  !  While  their 
bodies  burst  from  their  graves,  the  miserable  spectacles 
of  horror  and  deformity,  see  the  millions  of  ffloomy 
ghosts    that    once  animated   them,   rise   like  pillars  of 


THE    GENERi\L    RESUKRECTION.  347 

smoke  from  the   bottomless  pit !  and  with  what  reluc 
tance  and  anguish  do  they  re-enter  their  old  habitations  ! 

0  what  a  dreadful  meeting  !  What  shocking  salutations  ! 
"  And  must  I  be  chained  to  thee  again,  (may  the  guilty 
soul  say)  O  thou  accursed,  polluted  body,  thou  system  of 
deformity  and  terror  !  In  thee  I  once  sinned,  by  thee  1 
was  once  ensnared,  debased,  and  ruined  :  to  gratify  thy 
vile  lusts  and  appetites  I  neglected  my  own  immortal  in- 
terests, degraded  my  native  dignity,  and  made  myself 
miserable  for  ever.  And  hast  thou  now  met  me  to  tor- 
ment me  for  ever  1  O  that  thou  hadst  still  slept  in  the 
dust,  and  never  been  repaired  again  !  Let  me  rather  be 
condemned  to  animate  a  toad  or  serpent  than  that  odious 
body  once  defiled  with  sin,  and  the  instrument  of  my 
guilty  pleasures,  now  made  strong  and  immortal  to  tor- 
ment me  with  strong  and  immortal  pains.     Once  indeed 

1  received  sensations  of  pleasure  from  thee,  but  now  thou 
art  transformed  into  an  engine  of  torture.  No  more 
shall  I  through  thine  eyes  behold  the  cheerful  light  of 
the  day,  and  the  beautiful  prospects  of  nature,  but  the 
thick  glooms  of  hell,  grim  and  ghastly  ghosts,  heaven  at 
an  impassable  distance,  and  all  the  horrid  sights  of  wo 
in  the  infernal  regions.  No  more  shall  thine  ears  charm 
me  with  the  harmony  of  sounds,  but  terrify  and  distress 
me  with  the  echo  of  eternal  groans,  and  the  thunder  of 
almighty  vengeance  !  No  more  shall  the  gratification 
of  thine  appetites  afford  me  pleasure,  but  thine  appe- 
tites, for  ever  hungry,  for  ever  unsatisfied,  shall  eternally 
torment  me  with  their  eager  importunate  cravings.  No 
more  shall  thy  tongue  be  employed  in  mirth,  and  jest, 
and  song,  but  complain,  and  groan,  and  blaspheme,  and 
roar  for  ever.  Thy  feet,  that  once  walked  in  the  flowery 
enchanted  path^  f  r"  sin,  must  now  walk  on  the  dismal 
burning  soil  of  heil.  O  my  wretched  companion!  I 
parted  with  thee  with  pain  and  reluctance  in  the  strug- 
gles of  death,  but  now  I  meet  thee  with  greater  terror 
and  agony.  Return  to  thy  bed  in  the  dust  ;  there  to 
sleep  and  rot,  and  let  me  never  see  thy  shocking  visage 
more."  In  vain  the  petition  !  the  reluctant  soul  must 
enter  its  prison,  from  whence  it  shall  never  more  be  dis- 
missed. And  if  we  might  indulge  imagination  so  far,  we 
might  suppose  the  body  begins  to  recriminate  in  such 
language    as  this :  "  Come,   guilty  soul,   enter  thy  old 


348  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

mansion  j  if  it  be  horrible  and  shocking,  it  is  owing  to 
thyself.  Was  not  the  animal  frame,  the  brutal  nature, 
subjected  to  thy  government,  who  art  a  rational  princi- 
ple 1  instead  of  being  debased  by  me,  it  became  thee  to 
have  not  only  retained  the  dignity  of  thy  nature,  but  to 
have  exalted  mine,  by  nobler  employments  and  gratifica- 
tions worthy  an  earthly  body  united  to  an  immortal 
spirit.  Thou  mightest  have  restrained  my  members 
from  being  the  instruments  of  sin,  and  made  them  the  in- 
struments of  righteousness.  My  knees  would  have 
bowed  at  the  throne  of  grace,  but  thou  didst  not  affect 
that  posture.  Mine  eyes  would  have  read,  and  mine 
ears  heard  the  word  of  life  ;  but  thou  wouldest  not  set 
them  to  that  employ,  or  wouldest  not  attend  to  it.  And 
now  it  is  but  just  the  body  thou  didst  prostitute  to  sin 
should  be  the  instrument  of  thy  punishment.  Indeed, 
fain  would  I  relapse  into  senseless  earth  as  I  was,  and 
continue  in  that  insensibility  for  ever  : — but  didst  thou 
not  hear  the  all-rousing  trumpet  just  nowl  did  it  not 
even  shake  the  foundations  of  thy  infernal  prison  1  It 
was  that  call  that  awakened  me,  and  summoned  me 
to  meet  thee,  and  I  could  not  resist  it.  Therefore, 
come,  miserable  soul,  take  possession  of  this  frame,  and 
let  us  prepare  for  everlasting  burning.  O  that  it  were 
now  possible  to  die !  0  that  we  could  be  again  sepa- 
rated, and  never  be  united  more  !  Vain  v/ish ;  the 
weight  of  mountains,  the  pangs  of  hell,  the  flames  of  un- 
quenchable fire,  can  never  dissolve  these  chains  which 
now  bind  us  together  !"* 

O !  Sirs,  what  a  shocking  interview  is  this  !      0  the 

•  The  Rev.  Mr.  John  Reynolds,  in  his  poem  entitled  Death's  Vision^ 
introduces  the  soul  speaking  against  the  body,  and  afterwards  checking 
its  censures,  ajid  turning  them  upon  itself,  in  a  vein  of  thought  not  unliko 
that  of  Mi   Davies. 

Go,  tempter,  go,  as  thou  hast  been 
A  quick  extinguisher  of  heav'nly  fires  i 
A  source  of  black  enormity  and  sin, 
Thou  cramp  of  sacred  motions  and  desires  ! 
How  brave  and  bless'd  am  I, 
Unfetter'd  from  the  company, 
Thou  enemy  of  my  joys  and  me  ? 
But  pardon  that  I  thus 
Unconsciously  accuse  ! 
How  much  more  cruel  have  I  been  to  thee  I 
*"Twas  cruel  that  I  oblig'd  thee  to  obey, 
The  wilful  dictates  of  my  guilty  sway." 


THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION.  349 

glorious,  dreadful  morning  of  the  resurrection  !  What 
scenes  of  unknown  joy  and  terror  will  then  open  !  Me- 
thinks  we  must  always  have  it  in  prospect  ;  it  must  even 
now  engage  our  thoughts,  and  fill  us  with  tremblinfr 
solicitude,  and  make  it  the  great  object  of  our  labor  and 
pursuit  to  share  in  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 

But  for  what  ends  do  these  sleeping  multitudes  rise  1 
For  what  purposes  do  they  come  forth  1  My  text  will 
tell  you. 

IV.  They  shall  come  forth,  "  some  to  the  resurrection 
of  life,  and  some  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation." 
They  are  summoned  from  their  graves  to  stand  at  the 
bar,  and  brought  out  of  prison  by  angelic  guards  to  pass 
their  last  trial.  And  as  in  this  impartial  trial  they  will 
be  found  to  be  persons  of  very  different  characters,  the 
righteous  Judge  of  the  earth  will  accordingly  pronounce 
their  different  doom. 

See  a  glorious  multitude,  which  none  can  number, 
openly  acquitted,  pronounced  blessed,  and  w'elcomed 
"  into  the  kingdom  prepared  for  them  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world."  Now  they  enter  upon  a  state  which 
deserves  the  name  of  life.  They  are  all  vital,  all  active, 
all  glorious,  all  happy.  They  "  shine  brighter  than  the 
stars  in  the  firmament ;  like  the  sun  for  ever  and  ever." 
All  their  faculties  overflow  with  happiness.  They  min- 
gle with  the  glorious  company  of  angels  ;  they  behold 
that  Savior  whom  unseen  they  loved  ;  they  dwell  in  eter- 
nal intimacy  with  the  Father  of  their  spirits ;  they  are 
employed  with  ever-nev/  and  growing  delight  in  the  ex- 
alted services  of  the  heavenly  sanctuary.  They  shall 
never  more  fear,  nor  feel  the  least  touch  of  sorrow, 
pain,  or  any  kind  of  misery,  but  shall  be  as  happy  as 
their  natures  can  admit  through  an  immortal  duration. 
What  a  glorious  new  creation  is  here  !  what  illustrious 
creatures  formed  of  the  dust !  And  shall  any  of  us  join 
in  this  happy  company  1  0  shall  any  of  us,  feeble,  dying, 
sinful  creatures,  share  in  their  glory  and  happiness  \ 
This  is  a  most  interesting  inquiry,  and  I  would  have  you 
think  of  it  with  trembling  anxiety  ;  and  I  shall  presently 
answer  it  in  its  place. 

The  prospect  would  be  delightful,  if  our  charity  could 
hope  that  this  will  be  the  happy  end  of  all  the  sons  of 
men.  But,  alas  !  multitudes,  and  we  \  ave  reason  to  fear 
30 


350  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

the  far  greater  number,  shall  come  forth,  not  to  the  resur- 
rection of  life,  but  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation ! 
what  terror  is  in  the  sound  !  If  audacious  sinners  in  our 
world  make  light  of  it,  and  pray  for  it  on  every  trifling 
occasion,  their  infernal  brethren,  that  feel  its  tremendous 
import,  are  not  so  hardy,  but  tremble  and  groan,  and  can 
trifle  with  it  no  more. 

Let  us  realize  the  miserable  doom  of  this  class  of  man- 
kind. See  them  bursting  into  life  from  their  subterra- 
nean dungeons,  hideous  shapes  of  deformity  and  terror, 
expressive  of  the  vindictive  design  for  which  their  bodies 
are  repaired,  and  of  the  boisterous  and  malignant  pas- 
sions that  ravage  their  souls.  Horror  throbs  through 
every  vein,  and  glares  wild  and  furious  in  their  eyes. 
Every  joint  trembles,  and  every  countenance  looks 
downcast  and  gloomy.  Now  they  see  that  tremendous 
day  of  which  they  were  warned  in  vain,  and  shudder  at 
those  terrors  of  which  they  once  made  light.  They  im- 
mediately know  the  grand  business  of  the  day,  and  the 
dreadful  purpose  for  which  they  are  roused  from  their 
slumbers  in  the  grave  5  to  be  tried,  to  be  convicted,  to 
be  condemned,  and  to  be  dragged  away  to  execution. 
Conscience  has  been  anticipating  the  trial  in  a  separate 
state  ;  and  no  sooner  is  the  soul  united  to  the  body,  than 
immediately  conscience  ascends  its  throne  in  the  breast, 
and  begins  to  accuse,  to  convict,  to  pass  sentence,  to 
upbraid,  and  to  torment.  The  sinner  is  condemned,  con- 
demned at  his  own  tribunal,  before  he  arrives  at  the  bar 
of  his  Judge.  The  first  act  of  consciousness  in  his  new 
state  of  existence  is  a  conviction  that  he  is  condemned, 
an  irrevocably  condemned  creature.  He  enters  the 
court,  knowing  beforehand  how  it  will  go  with  him. 
When  he  finds  himself  ordered  to  the  left  hand  of  his 
Judge,  when  he  hears  the  dreadful  sentence  thundered 
out  against  him,  depart  from  me^  accursed^  it  was  but  what 
he  expected.  Now  he  can  flatter  himself  with  vain 
hopes,  and  shut  his  eyes  against  the  light  of  conviction, 
but  then  he  will  not  be  able  to  hope  better  ;  then  he  must 
know  the  worst  of  his  case.  The  formality  of  the  judi- 
cial trial  is  necessary  for  the  conviction  of  the  world, 
but  not  for  his  ;  his  own  conscience  has  already  deter- 
mined his  condition.  However,  to  convince  others  of 
the  justice  of  his  doom,  he  is  dragged  and  guarded  from 


THE    (lEKERAL    RESURRECTION.  351 

his  grave  to  the  judgment-seat  by  fierce,  unrelenting 
devils,  now  his  tempters,  but  then  his  tormentors.  With 
what  horror  does  he  view  the  burning  throne  and  the 
frowning  face  of  his  Judge,  that  Jesus  whom  he  once  dis- 
regarded, in  spite  of  all  his  dying  love  and  the  salvation 
he  offered!  How  does  he  wish  for  a  covering  of  rocks 
and  mountains  to  conceal  him  from  his  angry  eye  !  but 
all  in  vain.  Appear  he  must.  He  is  ordered  to  the  left 
among  the  trembling  criminals  ;  and  now  the  trial  comes 
on.  All  his  evil  deeds,  and  all  his  omissions  of  duty,  are 
now  produced  against  him.  All  the  mercies  he  abused, 
all  the  chastisements  he  despised,  all  the  means  of  grace 
he  neglected  or  misimproved,  every  sinful,  and  even 
every  idle  word,  nay  his  most  secret  thoughts  and  dispo- 
sitions, are  all  exposed,  and  brought  into  judgment 
against  him.  And  when  the  Judge  puts  it  to  him,  "Is  it 
not  so,  sinner  1  Are  not  these  charges  true  V  con- 
science obliges  him  to  confess  and  cry  out,  Guilty  I 
guilty!  And  now  the  trembling  criminal  being  plainly 
convicted,  and  left  without  all  plea  and  all  excuse,  the 
supreme  Judge,  in  stern  majesty  and  inexorable  justice, 
thunders  out  the  dreadful  sentence,  "  Depart  from  me, 
ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels."  Matt.  xxv.  41.  0  tremendous  doom  ! 
every  word  is  big  with  terror,  and  shoots  a  thunderbolt 
through  the  heart.  "  Depart :  away  from  my  presence  ; 
I  cannot  bear  so  loathsome  a  sight.  I  once  invited  thee 
to  come  to  me,  that  thou  mightest  have  life,  but  thou 
wouldst  not  regard  the  invitation  ;  and  now  thou  shalt 
never  hear  that  inviting  voice  more.  Depart  from  me  j 
from  me,  the  only  Fountain  of  happiness,  the  only  pro- 
per Good  for  an  immortal  mind."  "  But,  Lord,"  (we  may 
suppose  the  criminal  to  say)  "  if  I  must  depart,  bless 
me  before  I  go."  "  No,"  says  the  angry  Judge,  "  depart 
accursed  ;  depart  with  my  eternal  and  heavy  curse  upon 
thee  ;  the  curse  of  that  power  that  made  thee  ;  a  curse 
dreadfully  eflicacious,  that  blasts  whatever  it  falls  upon 
like  flashes  of  consuming,  irresistible  lightning."  "  But 
if  I  must  go  away  under  thy  curse,  (the  criminal  may  be 
supposed  to  say)  let  that  be  all  my  punishment ;  let  me 
depart  to  some  agreeable,  or  at  least  tolerable  recess, 
where  I  may  meet  with  something  to  mitigate  the  curse." 
"  No,  depart  into  fire  ;  there  burn  in  all  the  excruciating 


^52  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

tortures  of  that  outrageous  element."  "  But,  Lord,  if  1 
must  make  my  bed  in  lire,  O  let  it  be  a  transient  blaze,  that 
will  soon  burn  itself  out,  and  put  an  end  to  my  torment." 
*'  No,  depart  into  everlasting  fire ;  there  burn  without 
consuming,  and  be  tormented  without  end."  "  But,  Lord, 
grant  me  (cries  the  poor  wretch)  at  least  the  mitigation 
of  friendly,  entertaining,  and  sympathising  company  ;  or, 
if  this  cannot  be  granted,  grant  me  this  small,  this  almost 
no  request,  to  be  doomed  to  some  solitary  corner  in  hell, 
where  I  shall  be  punished  only  by  my  o-wn  conscience 
and  thine  immediate  hand  ;  but  O  deliver  me  from  these 
malicious,  tormenting  devils;  banish  me  into  some  apart- 
ment in  the  infernal  pit  far  from  their  society."  "  No, 
depart  into  everlasting  fire  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels  :  thou  must  make  one  of  their  wretched  crew  for 
ever  :  thou  didst  join  with  them  in  sinning,  and  now 
must  share  in  their  punishment :  thou  didst  submit  to 
them  as  thy  tempters,  and  now  thou  must  submit  to  them 
as  thy  tormentors." 

Sentence  being  pronounced,  it  is  immediately  execut- 
ed. These  shall  go  away  into  everlastuig  'punishment. 
Matt.  XXV.  46.  Devils  drag  them  away  to  the  pit,  and 
push  them  down  headlong.  There  they  are  con^ned  in 
chains  of  darkness,  and  in  a  lake  burning  w^ith  fire  and 
brimstone,  for  ever,  for  ever  !  In  that  dreadful  word  lies 
the  emphasis  of  torment :  it  is  a  hell  in  helL  If  they 
might  be  but  released  from  pain,  though  it  were  by  anni- 
hilation after  they  have  wept  away  ten  thousand  millions 
of  ages  in  extremity  of  pain,  it  would  be  some  mitiga- 
tion, some  encouragement;  but,  alas!  when  as  many 
millions  of  ages  are  passed  as  the  stars  of  heaven,  or  the 
sands  on  the  sea-shore,  or  the  atoms  of  dust  in  this  huge 
globe  of  earth,  their  punishment  is  as  far  from  an  end  as 
when  the  sentence  was  pronounced  upon  them.  For 
ever  !  there  is  no  exhausting  of  that  word  ;  and  when  it 
is  affixed  to  the  highest  degree  of  misery,  the  terror  of 
the  sound  is  utterly  insupportable.  See,  sirs,  what  de- 
pends upon  time,  that  span  of  time  we  may  enjoy  in  this 
fleeting  life.  Eternity  !  awful,  all-important  eternity,  de- 
pends upon  it. 

All  this  while  conscience  tears  the  sinner's  heart  with 
the  most  tormenting  reflections.  "  0  w^hat  a  fair  oppor- 
tunity I  once  had  for  salvation,  had  I  improved  it !  I  was 


THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION.  S53 

warned  of  the  consequences  of  a  life  of  sin  and  careless- 
ness :  I  was  told  of  the  necessity  of  faith,  repentance, 
and  universal  holiness  of  heart  and  life  ;  I  enjoyed  a  suf- 
ficient space  for  repentance,  and  all  the  necessary  means 
of  salvation,  but,  fool  that  I  was,  I  neglected  all,  I  abused 
all ;  I  refused  to  part  with  my  sins  ;  1  refused  to  engage 
seriously  in  religion,  and  to  seek  God  in  earnest ;  and 
now  I  am  lost  forever,  without  hope.  O !  for  one  of 
those  months,  one  of  those  weeks,  or  even  so  much  as 
one  of  those  days  or  hours  I  once  trifled  away  5  with  what 
earnestness,  wit'h  what  solicitude  would  I  improve  it ! 
But  all  my  opportunities  are  past,  beyond  recovery,  and 
not  a  moment  shall  be  given  me  for  this  purpose  any 
more.  O  what  a  fool  was  I  to  sell  my  soul  for  such  tri- 
fles !  to  set  so  light  by  heaven,  and  fall  into  hell  through 
mere  neglect  and  carelessness  !  Ye  impenitent,  unthink- 
ing sinners,  though  you  may  now  be  able  to  silence  or 
drown  the  clamors  of  your  consciences,  yet  the  time,  or 
rather  the  dread  eternity  is  coming,  when  they  will 
speak  in  spite  of  you  ;  when  they  will  speak  home,  and 
be  felt  by  the  most  hardened  and  remorseless  heart. 
Therefore  now  regard  their  warnings  while  they  may  be 
the  means  of  your  recovery. 

You  and  I,  my  brethren,  are  concerned  in  the  solemn 
transaction  of  the  day  I  have  been  describing.  You  and 
I  shall  either  be  changed  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye,  or  while  mouldering  "  in  the  grave,  we  shall 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  come  forth,  either 
to  the  resurrection  of  life,  or  to  the  resurrection  of  dam- 
nation." And  which,  my  brethren,  shall  be  our  doom  1 
Can  we  foreknow  it  at  this  distance  of  time  1  I  proposed 
it  to  your  inquiry  already,  whether  you  have  any  good 
reason  to  hope  you  shall  be  of  that  happy  number  who 
shall  rise  to  life  1  and  now  I  propose  it  again,  with  this 
counterpart.  Have  you  any  evidences  to  hope  you  shall 
not  be  of  that  wretched  numerous  multitude  who  shall 
rise  to  damnation  1  If  there  be  an  inquiry  within  the 
compass  of  human  knowledge  that  demands  your  solicit- 
ous thoughts,  certainly  it  is  this.  Methinks  you  cannot 
enjoy  one  moment's  ease  or  security  while  this  is  unde- 
termined. And  is  it  an  answerable  inquiry  l  Can  we 
now  know  what  are  the   present  distinguishing  charac- 

30* 


354  THE    GETsERAL    RESURRECTION. 

ters  of  those  who  shall  then  receive  so  different  a  doom  1 
Yes,  my  text  determines  the  point ;  for, 

V.  "  They  that  have  done  good  shall  come  forth  to 
the  resurrection  of  life  ;  and  they  that  have  done  evil,  to 
the  resurrection  of  damnation."  These  are  the  grounds 
of  the  distinction  that  shall  then  be  made  in  the  final 
states  of  men,  doing  good  and  doing  evil.  And  certainly 
this  distinction  is  perceivable  now;  to  do  good  and  to 
do  evil  are  not  so  much  alike  as  that  it  should  be  impos- 
sible to  distinguish  between  them.  Let  us  then  see  what 
is  implied  in  these  characters,  and  to  whom  of  us  they 
respectively  belong. 

1.  What  is  it  to  do  good  ?  This  implies,  (1.)  An  honest 
endeavor  to  keep  all  God's  commandments ;  I  say,  all 
his  commandments,  with  regard  to  God,  our  neighbor, 
and  ourselves,  whether  easy  or  difficult,  whether  fashion- 
able or  not,  whether  agreeable  to  our  natural  constitu- 
tion or  not,  whether  enjoining  the  performance  of  duty 
or  forbidding  the  commission  of  sin,  whether  regarding 
the  heart  or  the  outward  practice.  I  say,  an  uniform,  im- 
partial regard  to  all  God's  commandments,  of  whatever 
kind,  in  all  circumstances,  and  at  all  times,  is  implied  in 
doing  good  ;  for  if  we  do  any  thing  because  God  com- 
mands it,  we  will  endeavor  to  do  every  thing  that  he 
commands,  because  Avhere  the  reason  of  our  conduct  is 
the  same,  our  conduct  itself  will  be  the  same.  I  do  not 
mean  that  good  men,  in  the  present  state,  perfectly  keep 
the  commandments  of  God  in  every  thing,  or  indeed  in 
any  thing ;  but  I  mean  that  universal  obedience  is  their 
honest  endeavor.  Their  character  is  in  some  measure 
uniform  and  all  of  a  piece  ;  that  is,  they  do  not  place  all 
their  religion  in  obedience  to  some  commands  which 
may  be  agreeable  to  them,  as  though  that  would  make 
atonement  for  their  neglect  of  others  ;  but,  like  David, 
they  are  for  having  a  respect,  and  indeed  have  a  respect 
to  all  God's  commandments  :  Psal.  cxix.  6.  My  brethren, 
try  yourselves  by  this  test. 

(2.)  To  do  good  in  an  acceptable  manner  pre-supposes 
a  change  of  nature  and  a  new  principle.  Our  nature  is 
so  corrupted  that  nothing  really  and  formally  good  can  be 
performed  by  us  till  it  be  renewed.  To  confirm  this  I 
shall  only  refer  you  to  Eph.  ii.  10,  and  Ezek.  xxxvi.  26, 
27,  wliere  being  created    in  Christ  Jesus  to  good  works, 


THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION.  355 

and  receiving  a  new  heart  of  flesh,  are  mentioned  as  pre^ 
requisites  to  our  walking  in  God's  statutes.  As  for  the 
principle  of  obedience,  it  is  the  love  of  God  :  1  John  v.  3 
that  is,  we  must  obey  God,  because  we  love  him  ;  we 
must  do  good,  because  we  delight  to  do  good  5  other- 
wise it  is  all  hypocrisy,  constraint,  or  seltishness,  and 
cannot  be  acceptable  to  God.  Here,  again,  my  brethren, 
took  into  your  hearts,  and  examine  what  is  the  principle 
of  your  obedience,  and  whether  ever  you  have  been 
made  new  creatures. 

(3.)  I  must  add,  especially  as  we  live  under  the  gospel, 
that  your  dependence  for  life  must  not  be  upon  the  good 
you  do,  but  entirely  upon  the  righteousness  of  Jesus 
Christ.  After  you  have  done  all,  you  must  acknowledge 
you  are  but  unprofitable  servants  ;  and  renounce  all  your 
works  in  point  of  merit,  while  you  abound  in  them  in 
point  of  practice  :  Phil.  iii.  7,  8.  This  is  an  essential 
characteristic  of  evangelical  obedience,  and  without  it 
you  cannot  expect  to  have  a  resurrection  to  eternal  life 
and  blessedness. 

I  might  enlarge  upon  this  head,  but  time  will  not  per- 
mit ;  and  I  hope  these  three  characters  may  sullice  to 
show  you  what  is  implied  in  doing  good.  Let  us  now 
proceed  to  the  opposite  character. 

2.  What  is  it  to  do  evil  \  This  implies  such  things  as 
these  5  the  habitual  neglect  of  well- doing,  or  the  per- 
formance of  duties  in  a  languid,  formal  manner,  or  Vv'ith- 
out  a  right  principle,  and  the  wilful  indulgence  of  any 
one  sin  :  the  secret  love  of  sin,  though  not  suffered  to 
break  forth  into  the  outv/ard  practice.  Here  it  is  evident 
at  first  sight  that  profane  sinners,  drunkards,  swearers, 
defrauders,  avowed  neglecters  of  religion,  &c.  have  this 
dismal  brand  upon  them,  that  they  are  such  as  do  evil. 
Nay,  all  such  who  are  in  their  natural  state,  without  re- 
generation, whatever  their  outside  be,  must  be  ranked  in 
this  class  ;  "  for  that  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh," 
John  iii.  6  ;  "  and  they  that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please 
God,  nor  be  rightly  subject  to  his  law."  Rom.  viii.  7,  8. 
And  now  who  is  for  life,  and  who  for  damnation  among 
you  1  These  characters  are  intended  to  make  the  dis- 
tinction among  you,  and  I  pray  you  apply  them  for  that 
purpose. 

As  for  such  of  you,  who,  amidst  all  your  lamented  in- 


S66  THE    GENERAL    RESURRECTION. 

firmities,  are  endeavoring  honestly  to  do  good,  and  griev 
ed  at  heart  that  you  can  do  no  more,  you  also  must  die  , 
you  must  die,  and  feed  the  worms  in  the  dust.  But  you 
shall  rise  gloriously  improved,  rise  to  an  immortal  life, 
and  in  all  the  terrors  and  consternation  of  that  last  day, 
you  will  be  secure,  serene,  and  undisturbed.  The  almigh- 
ty Judge  will  be  your  friend,  and  that  is  enough.  Let 
this  thought  disarm  the  king  of  terrors,  and  give  you 
courage  to  look  down  into  the  grave,  and  forward  to 
the  great  rising  day.  0  what  a  happy  immortality  opens 
its  glorious  prospects  beyond  the  ken  of  sight  before  you  ! 
and  after  a  few  struggles  more  in  this  state  of  warfare, 
and  resting  awhile  in  the  bed  of  death,  at  the  regions  of 
eternal  blessedness  you  will  arrive,  and  take  up  your  re- 
sidence there  for  ever. 

But  are  there  not  some  here  who  are  conscious  that 
these  favorable  characters  do  not  belong  to  them  l  that 
know  that  well-doing  is  not  the  business  of  their  life, 
but  that  they  are  workers  of  iniquity  %  I  tell  you  plain- 
ly, and  with  all  the  authority  the  word  of  God  can  give, 
that  if  you  continue  such,  you  shall  rise  to  damnation. 
That  undoubtedly  will  be  your  doom,  unless  you  are 
greatly  changed  and  reformed  in  heart  and  life.  And 
will  this  be  no  excitement  to  vigorous  endeavors'!  Are 
you  proof  against  the  energy  of  such  a  consideration  1 
Ye  careless  sinners,  awake  out  of  your  security,  and  pre- 
pare for  death  and  judgment !  this  fleeting  life  is  all  the 
time  you  have  for  preparation,  and  can  you  trifle  it  away  1 
Your  all,  your  eternal  all  is  set  upon  the  single  cast  of 
life,  and  you  must  stand  the  hazard  of  the  die.  You  can 
make  but  one  experiment,  and  if  that  fail,  through  your 
sloth  or  mismanagement,  you  are  irrecoverably  undone 
for  ever.  Therefore,  by  the  dread  authority  of  the  great 
God,  by  the  terrors  of  death,  and  the  great  rising  day, 
by  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  torments  of  hell,  and  by 
the  value  of  your  immortal  souls,  I  intreat,  I  charge,  I 
adjure  you  to  awake  out  of  your  security,  and  improve 
the  precious  moments  of  life.  The  world  is  dying  all 
around  you.  And  can  you  rest  easy  in  such  a  world, 
while  unprepared  for  eternity  1  Awake  to  righteousness 
now,  at  the  gentle  call  of  the  gospel,  before  the  last 
trumpet  give  you  an  alarm  of  another  kind. 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  357 

SERMON  XX. 

THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT 

Acts  xvu.  30,  31. — ^nd  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God 
winked  it ;  hut  now  covimandeth  all  men  everywhere  to 
repent^  because  he  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  he 
will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by  that  Man  whom 
he  hath  ordained  ;  whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto 
all  men^  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead. 

The  present  state  is  the  infancy  of  human  nature  \  and 
all  the  events  of  time,  even  those  that  make  such  noise, 
and  determine  the  fate  of  kingdoms,  are  but  the  little  af- 
fairs of  children.  But  if  we  look  forwards  and  trace  hu- 
man nature  to  maturity,  we  meet  with  events  vast,  in- 
teresting, and  majestic ;  and  such  as  nothing  but  divine 
authority  can  render  credible  to  us  who  are  so  apt  tc 
judge  of  things  by  what  we  see.  To  one  of  those  scenes 
I  would  direct  your  attention  this  day  ;  I  mean  the  so- 
lemn, tremendous,  and  glorious  scene  of  the  universal 
judgment. 

You  have  sometimes  seen  a  stately  building  in  ruins  ; 
come  now  and  view  the  ruins  of  a  demolished  world. 
You  have  often  seen  a  feeble  mortal  struggling  in  the 
agonies  of  death,  and  his  shattered  frame  dissolved  ; 
come  now  and  view  universal  nature  severely  laboring 
and  agonizing  in  her  last  convulsions,  and  her  well  com- 
pacted system  dissolved.  You  have  heard  of  earthquakes 
here  and  there  that  have  laid  Lisbon,  Palermo,  and  a  few 
other  cities  in  ruins;  come  now  and  feel  the  tremoisand 
convulsions  of  the  whole  globe,  that  blend  cities  and 
countries,  oceans  and  continents,  mountains,  plains,  and 
vallies,  in  one  promiscuous  heap.  You  have  a  thousand 
times  beheld  the  moon  wallcing  in  brightness,  and  the 
sun  shining  in  his  strength  ;  now  look  and  see  the  sun 
turned  into  darkness,  and  the  moon  into  blood. 

It  is  our  lot  to  live  in  an  age  of  confusion,  blood,  and 
slaughter ;  an  age  in  which  our  attention  is  engaged  by 
the  clash  of  arms,  the  clangor  of  trumpets,  the  roar  of 
artillery,  and  the  dubious  fate  of  kingdoms ;  but  draw 
off  your  thoughts  from  these  objects  for  an  hour,  and 


S58 


THE    U.MVEIlS;iL    JUDGMENT. 


fix  tlicm  on  objects  more  solemn  and  interesting:  come 
view 

"  A  scene  that  yields 

A  louder  trunipetj  and  more  dreadful  fields ; 

The  World  alarm'd,  both  Earth  and  Heaven  o'erthrown, 

And  gasping  nature's  last  tremendous  groan  ; 

Death's  ancient  sceptre  broke,  the  teeming  Tomb, 

The  Righteous  Judge,  and  man's  eternal  Doom." 

Such  a  scene  there  certainly  is  before  us ;  for  St.  Paul 
tells  us  that  "God  hath  given  assurance  to  all  men  that 
he  will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  by. that  man 
whom  he  hath  ordained  ;".  and  that  his  resurrection,  the 
resurrection  of  him  who  is  God  and  man,  is  a  demonstra- 
tive proof  of  it. 

My  text  is  the  conclusion  of  St.  Paul's  defence  or  ser- 
mon before  the  famous  court  of  Areopagus,  in  the  learn- 
ed and  philosophical  city  of  Athens.  In  this  august  and 
polite  assembly  he  speaks  with  the  boldness,  and  in  the 
evangelical  strain,  of  an  apostle  of  Christ.  He  first  in- 
culcates upon  them  the  great  truths  of  natural  religion, 
and  labors  faithfully,  though  in  a  very  gentle  and  inof- 
fensive manner,  to  reform  them  from  that  stupid  idolatry 
and  superstition  into  which  even  this  learned  and  philo- 
sophical city  was  sunk,  though  a  Socrates,  a  Ploto,  and 
the  most  celebrated  sages  and  moralists  of  pagan  antiqui- 
ty had  lived  and  taught  in  it.  Afterwards,  in  the  close 
of  his  discourse,  he  introduces  the  glorious  peculiarities 
of  Christianity,  particularly  the  great  duty  of  repentance, 
from  evangelical  motives,  the  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
and  the  final  judgment.  But  no  sooner  has  he  entered 
upon  this  subject  than  he  is  interrupted,  and  seems  to 
have  broken  off  abruptly  ;  for  when  he  had  just  hinted  at 
the  then  unpopular  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  o{  the 
dead,  we  are  told,  some  mocked^  and  others  put  it  off  to 
another  hearing :   We  will  hear  thee  agai?i  of  this   matter. 

In  these  dark  times  of  ignorance  which  preceded  the 
publication  of  the  gospel,  God  seemed  to  wink  or  con- 
nive at  the  idolatry  and  various  forms  of  wickedness  that 
had  overspread  the  world  j  that  is  he  seemed  to  over- 
look* or  to  take  no  notice  of  them,  so  as  either  to  pun- 
ish them,  or  to  give  the  nations  explicit  calls  to  repent- 

*   vneptS(ov. 


THE    UNIVERSAL   JUDGMENT.  359 

ance.  But  now,  says  St.  Paul,  the  case  is  altered.  Now 
the  gospel  is  published  through  the  world,  and  therefore 
God  will  no  longer  seem  to  connive  at  the  wickedness 
and  impenitence  of  mankind,  but  publishes  his  great 
mandate  to  a  rebel  world,  explicitly  and  loudly,  command- 
ing all  men  every  where  to  rcj)ent  ;  and  he  now  gives  them 
particular  motives  and  encouragements  to  this  duty. 

One  motive  of  the  greatest  wcigiit,  which  was  never 
so  clearly  or  extensively  published  before,  is  the  doc- 
trine of  the  universal  judgment.  This  the  connection 
implies  :  "  He  now  commandeth  all  men  to  repent,  be- 
cause he  hath  appointed  a  day  for  judging  all  men." 
And  surely  the  prospect  of  a  judgment  must  be  a  strong 
motive  to  sinners  to  repent: — this,  if  anything,  will  rouse 
them  from  their  thoughtless  security,  and  bring  them  to 
repentance.  Repentance  should,  and  one  would  think 
must,  be  as  extensive  as  this  reason  for  it.  This  St.  Paul 
intimates.  "  He  now  commandeth  all  men  to  repent,  be- 
cause he  hath  given  assurance  to  all  men"  that  he  has 
"  appointed  a  day  to  judge  the  world."  Wherever  the 
gospel  publishes  the  doctrine  of  future  judgment,  there 
it  requires  all  men  to  repent ;  and  wherever  it  requires 
repentance,  there  it  enforces  the  command  of  this  alarm- 
ing doctrine. 

God  has  given  assurajice  to  all  men  ;  that  is,  to  all  that 
hear  the  gospel,  that  he  has  appointed  a  day  for  this 
great  purpose,  and  that  Jesus  Christ,  God-man,  is  to  pre- 
side in  person  in  this  majestic  solemnity.  He  has  given 
assurance  of  this  ;  that  is,  sufficient  ground  of  faith  ;  and 
the  assurance  consists  in  this,  that  he  hath  raised  him 
from  the  dead. 

The  resurrection  of  Christ  gives  assurance  of  this  in 
several  respects.  It  is  a  specimen  and  a  pledge  of  a  gen- 
eral resurrection,  that  grand  preparative  for  the  judg- 
ment :  it  is  an  incontestible  proof  of  his  divine  mission  ; 
for  God  will  never  work  so  unprecedented  a  miracle  in 
favor  of  an  impostor :  it  is  also  an  authentic  attestation 
of  all  our  Lord's  claims  ;  and  he  expressly  claimed  tho 
authority  of  supreme  Judge  as  delegated  to  him  by  ihe 
Father;  "  the  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  commit- 
ted all  judgment  to  the  Son."  John  v.  22. 

There  is  a  peculiar  fitness  and  propriety  in  this  consti- 
tution.    It  is  fit  that  a  world  placed  under  the  adminia 


360  THE    UNIVEKSAL    JUDGMENT. 

tration  of  a  Mediator  should  have  a  mediatorial  Judge 
It  is  fit  this  high  office  should  be  conferred  upon  him  as 
an  honorary  reward  for  his  important  services  and  ex- 
treme abasement.  "  Because  he  humbled  himself,  there- 
fore God  hath  highly  exahed  him."  Phil.  ii.  8,  9.  It  is 
fit  that  creatures  clothed  with  bodies  should  be  judged 
by  a  man  clothed  in  a  body  like  themselves.  Hence  it 
is  said  that  "  all  judgment  is  given  to  the  Son,  because 
he  is  the  Son  of  man."  John  v.  27.  This  would  seem  a 
strange  reason,  did  we  not  understand  it  in  this  light. 
Indeed,  was  Jesus  Christ  man  only,  he  would  be  infinite- 
ly^ unequal  to  the  office  of  universal  Judge  ;  but  he  is  God 
and  man,  Immanuel^  God  with  us  ;  and  is  the  fittest  per- 
son in  the  universe  for  the  work.  It  is  also  fit  that  Christ 
should  be  the  supreme  Judge,  as  it  will  be  a  great  en- 
couragement to  his  people  for  their  Mediator  to  execute 
this  office :  and  it  may  be  added,  that  hereby  the  con- 
demnation of  the  wicked  will  be  rendered  more  conspic- 
uously just  ;  for,  if  a  Mediator,  a  Savior,  the  Friend  of 
sinners,  condemns  them,  they  must  be  worthy  of  con- 
demnation indeed. 

Let  us  now  enter  upon  the  majestic  scene.  But  alas  ! 
what  images  shall  I  use  to  represent  it  1  Nothing  that 
we  have  seen,  nothing  that  we  have  heard,  nothing  that 
has  ever  happened  on  the  stage  of  time,  can  furnish  us 
with  proper  illustrations.  All  is  low  and  grovelling,  all 
is  faint  and  obscure  that  ever  the  sun  shone  upon,  when 
compared  with  the  grand  phenomena  of  that  day ;  and 
we  are  so  accustomed  to  low  and  little  objects,  that  it  is 
impossible  we  should  ever  raise  our  thoughts  to  a  suit- 
able pitch  of  elevation.  Ere  long  we  shall  be  amazed 
spectators  of  these  majestic  wonders,  and  our  eyes 
and  our  ears  will  be  our  instructers.  But  now  it  is 
necessary  we  should  have  such  ideas  of  them  as  may 
affect  our  hearts,  and  prepare  us  for  them.  Let  us  there- 
fore present  to  our  view  those  representations  which  di- 
vine revelation,  our  only  guide  in  this  case,  gives  us  of  the 
person  of  the  Judge,  and  the  manner  of  his  appearance  ; 
of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  transformation 
of  the  living  ;  of  the  universal  convention  of  all  the  sons 
of  men  before  the  supreme  tribunal ;  of  their  separation 
to  the  right  and  left  hand  of  the  Judge,  according  to  their 
characters  j  of  the  judicial  process  itself  j  of  the  decisive 


THE    UxMVEKSv^L    JUDGMENT.  361 

sentence ;  of  its  execution,  and  of  the  conflagration  of 
the  world. 

As  to  the  person  of  the  Judge,  the  psalmist  tells  you, 
God  is  Judge  himself.  Psalm  1.  6.  Yet  Christ  tells  us, 
"  the  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all 
judgment  to  the  Son  ;  and  that  he  hath  given  him  au- 
thority to  execute  judgment,  because  he  is  the  Son  of 
man."  John  v.  22,  27.  It  is  therefore  Christ  Jesus,  God 
man,  as  I  observed,  who  shall  sustain  this  high  charac- 
ter ;  and  for  the  reasons  already  alleged,  it  is  most  fit  it 
should  be  devolved  upon  him.  Being  God  and  man,  all 
the  advantages  of  divinity  and  humanity  centre  in  him, 
and  render  him  more  fit  for  this  office  than  if  he  were 
God  only,  or  man  only.  This  is  the  august  Judge  before 
whom  we  must  stand  ;  and  the  prospect  may  inspire  us 
with  reverence,  joy  and  terror. 

As  for  the  manner  of  his  appearance,  it  will  be  such  as 
becomes  the  dignity  of  his  person  and  office.  He  will 
shine  in  all  the  uncreated  glories  of  the  Godhead,  and  in 
all  the  gentler  glories  of  a  perfect  man.  His  nU4;ndants 
will  add  a  dignity  to  the  grand  appearance,  ana  the  sym- 
pathy of  nature  will  increase  the  solemnity  and  terror  of 
the  day.  Let  his  own  word  describe  him.  "The  Son 
of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and  in  the  glory  of  his 
Father,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with  him  ;  and  then  shall 
he  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his  glory."  Matt.  xxv.  31 :  xvi. 
27.  "  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  be  revealed  from  heaven 
with  his  mighty  angels  in  flaming  fire,  taking  vengeance 
on  them  that  know  not  God,  and  that  obey  not  the  gos- 
pel of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  2  Thess.  i.  7,  8.  And  not 
only  will  the  angels,  those  illustrious  ministers  of  the 
court  of  heaven,  attend  upon  that  solemn  occasion,  but 
also  all  the  saints  who  had  left  the  world  from  Adam  to 
that  day  j  for  those  that  sleep  in  Jesus^  says  St.  Paul,  will 
God  bring  with  him.  1  Thess.  iv.  14.  The  grand  imagerj*- 
in  Daniel's  vision  is  applicable  to  this  day  :  and  perhaps 
to  this  it  primarily  refers  :  "  I  beheld  till  the  thrones  were 
cast  down,"  or  rather  set  up,*  "  and  the  Ancient  of  days 
did  sit,  whose  garment  was  white  as  snow,  and  the  hair  of 

*  This  sense  is  more  agreeable  to  the  connection,  and  the  original  word 
will  bear  it ;  which  signifies  to  pitch  down  or  place,  as  well  as  to  throw 
down  or  demolish.  And  the  LXX  translate  it,  the  thrones  were  put  uj>, 
or  fixed, 

SI 


362  THK    U>.1VEKSAL    JUDGMENT. 

his  head  like  the  pure  wool.  His  throne  was  like  the 
fiery  flame,  and  his  wheels  as  burning  fire.  A  fiery- 
stream  issued,  and  came  forth  from  before  him :  thou- 
sands thousands  ministered  unto  him,  and  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  stood  before  him,"  Dan.  vii.  9,  10. 
Perhaps  our  Lord  may  exhibit  himself  to  the  whole  worjd 
upon  this  most  grand  occasion,  in  the  same  glorious 
form  in  which  he  was  seen  by  his  favorite  John,  "  cloth- 
ed with  a  garment  down  to  the  foot,  and  girt  about  the 
breasts  with  a  golden  girdle  :  his  head  and  his  hairs 
white  like  wool,  as  white  as  snow ;  his  eyes  as  a  flame 
of  fire  :  his  feet  like  unto  fine  brass,  as  if  they  burned  in 
a  furnace :  his  voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters,  and 
his  countenance  as  the  sun  shining  in  his  strength." 
Rev.  i.  13,  &c.  Another  image  of  inimitable  majesty 
and  terror  the  same  writer  gives  us,  when  he  says,  "  I 
saw  a  great  white  throne,  and  him  that  sat  on  it,  from 
whoso  face  the  earth  and  the  heaven  fled  aAvay,  and  there 
w^as  found  no  place  for  them."  Astonishing!  what  an 
image  is  this  !  the  stable  earth  and  heaven  cannot  bear 
the  majesty  and  terror  of  his  look  :  they  fly  away  aflright- 
ed,  and  seek  a  place  to  hide  themselves,  but  no  place  is 
found  to  shelter  them  ;  every  region  through  the  im- 
mensity of  space  lies  open  before  him.*  Rev.  xx.  11. 

This  is  the  Judge  before  whom  we  must  stand ;  and 
this  is  the  manner  of  his  appearance.  But  is  this  the 
babe  of  Bethlehem  that  lay  and  wept  in  the  manger  1  Is 
this  the  supposed  son  of  the  carpenter,  the  despised  Ga- 
lilean l     Is  this  the  man  of  sorrows  1      Is  this  ho  that 

•  This  is  the  picture  drawni  by  the  pencil  of  inspiration.  We  may  now 
contemplate  the  imagery  of  a  fine  human  pen. 


-From  his  great  abode 


Full  on  a  whirlwind  rides  the  dreadful  God  : 
The  tempest's  rattling  winds,  the  fiery  car, 
Ten  thousand  hosts  his  ministers  of  war, 
The  flaining  Cherubim,  attend  his  flight, 
And  heaven's  foundations  groan  beneath  the  weight 
Thro'  all  the  skies  the  forky  lightnings  play, 
And  radiant  splendors  round  his  head  display. 
From  his  briglit  eyes  afl'righted  worlds  retire ; 
lie  speaks  in  thuiider  and  lie  breathes  in  fire. 
Garments  of  heavenly  light  array  the  God  ; 
His  throne  a  bright  consolidated  cloud — 
Support  me,  Heaven,  I  sliuddcr  with  aff'right ; 
I  quake,  I  sink  with  terror  at  the  sight. 

The  Lay  of  Judgment,  a  Poem,  a  little  varied. 


THE    UMVEKSAL    JUDGME^'T.  363 

was  arrested,  was  condemned,  was  buffeted,  was  spit 
upon,  was  crowned  with  thorns,  was  executed  as  a  slave 
and  a  criminal,  upon  the  cross  1  Yes,  it  is  he  5  the  very 
same  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  But  0  how  changed  !  how 
deservedly  exalted  !  Let  heaven  and  earth  congratulate 
his  advancement.  Now  let  his  enemies  appear  and  show 
their  usual  contempt  and  malignity.  Now,  Pilate,  con- 
demn the  King  of  the  Jews  as  an  usurper.  Now,  ye 
Jews,  raise  the  clamor,  crucify  him,  crucify  him. 

"  Now  bow  the  knee  in  scorn,  present  the  reed  ; 
Now  tell  the  scourg'd  Impostor  he  must  bleed." — Young. 

Now,  ye  Deists  and  Infidels,  dispute  his  divinity  and  the 
truth  of  his  religion  if  you  can.  Now,  ye  hypocritical 
Christians,  try  to  impose  upon  him  with  your  idle  pre- 
tences. Now  despise  his  grace,  laugh  at  his  threatenings, 
and  make  light  of  his  displeasure  if  you  are  able.  Ah ! 
now  their  courage  fails,  and  terror  surrounds  them  like 
armed  men.  Now  "  they  hide  themselves  in  the  dens, 
and  in  the  rocks  of  the  mountains  ;  and  say  to  the  moun- 
tains and  rocks,  fall  on  us,  and  hide  us  from  the  face  of 
him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  from  the  wrath  of 
the  Lamb ;"  for  the  Lamb  that  once  bled  as  a  sacrifice 
for  sin  now  appears  in  all  the  terrors  of  a  lion  ;  and  "  the 
great  day  of  his  wrath  is  come,  and  who  shall  be  able  to 
standi"  Rev.  vi.  15.  O!  could  they  hide  themselves  in 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  or  in  some  rock  that  bears  the 
weight  of  the  mountains,  how  happy  would  they  think 
themselves.     But,  alas ! 

"  Seas  cast  the  monsters  forth  to  meet  their  doom. 

And  rocks  but  prison  up  lor  wrath  to  come." — Young. 

While  the  Judge  is  descending,  the  parties  to  be 
judged  v/ill  be  summoned  to  appear.  But  where  are 
they  1  They  are  all  asleep  in  their  dusty  beds,  except 
the  then  generation.  And  how  shall  they  be  roused 
from  their  long  sleep  of  thousands  of  years  1  "  Why 
the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a 
shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the 
trump  of  God."  1  Thess.  iv.  16.  The  trumpet  shall 
sound,  and  they  that  are  then  alive  shall  not  pass  into 
otornity  through  the  beaten  road  of  death,  but  at  the  last 


364?  THE    UKIVEaSAL    JUDG3IENT. 

trumpet  they  shall  he  changed^  changed  into  immortals,  in 
a  moment^  iti  the  twinkling  of  an  eye.       1  Cor.  xv.  51,  52. 
JVow  all  the  millions  of  mankind,  of  whatever  country 
and  nation,  whether  they  expect  this  tremendous  day  or 
not,  all  feel  a  shock  through  their  whole  frames,  while 
they  are  instantaneously  metamorphosed  in   every  limb, 
and  the  pulse  of  immortality  begins  to  beat   strong  in 
every   part.       Now  also   the   slumberers  under   ground 
begin   to   stir,  to    rouse  and  spring  to   life.     Now  see 
graves  opening,  tombs  bursting,  charnel-houses  rattling, 
the  earth  heaving,  and   all  alive,  while  these    subterra- 
nean armies  are  bursting  their  way  through.    See  clouds 
of  human  dust  and  broken  bones  darkening  the  air,  and 
flying  from  country  to  country  over  intervening  conti- 
nents and  oceans  to  meet  their  kindred  fragments,  and 
repair  the  shattered  frame  with  pieces  collected  from  a 
thousand  different  quarters,  whither   they  were  blown 
away  by  winds,  or  washed  by  waters.       See  what  mil- 
lions start  up  in    company  in  the   spots  where  Nineveh, 
Babylon,    Jerusalem,    Rome,  and  London    once    stood! 
Whole  armies  spring  to  life  in  fields  where  they  once 
lost    their    lives    in  battle,    aud  were  left  unburied ;  in 
fields  which  fattened  with  their  blood,  produced  a  thou- 
sand harvests,  and  now  produce  a  crop  of  men.      See  a 
succession  of  thousands  of  years  rising  in  crowds  from 
grave-yards  round  the  places  where  they  once  attended, 
in  order  to  prepare  for  this  decisive  day.       Nay,  graves 
yawn,    and    swarms   burst  into  life    under  palaces   and 
buildings  of  pride  and  pleasure,  in   fields  and  forests,  in 
thousands  of  places  where  graves  were  never  suspected. 
How  are   the  living  surprised  to  find  men   starting  into 
life  under  their  feet,  or  just  beside  them ;  some  begin- 
ning  to    stir,  and  heave  the  ground  ;  others  half-risen, 
and  others  quite   disengaged  from  the  incumbrance  of 
earth,  and   standing  upright  before   them  !       What  vast 
multitudes  that  had  slept  in  a  watery  grave,  now  emerge 
from  rivers,  and  seas,  and  oceans,  and  throw  them  into  a 
tumult !       Now  appear  to  the  view  of  all  the  world  the 
Goliahs,  the  Anakims,  and  the  other   giants  of  ancient 
times;  and  now  the  millions  of  infants,  those  little  par- 
ticles of  life,  start  up  at  once,  perhaps  in  full   maturity, 
or  perhaps  in  the  lowest  class  of  mankind,  dwarfs  of  im- 
mortality.      The  deadj  small  andgreat,  will  arise  to  stand 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  365 

before  God  ;  and  the  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead  which  were 
in  it.  Rev.  xx.  12,  13.  Now  the  many  that  sleep  in  the 
dust  shall  awake  and  come  forth  ;  some  to  everlasting  life, 
and  some  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  Dan.  xii.  2- 
J\''ow  the  hour  is  come  when  all  that  are  in  the  grave  shall 
hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  shall  come  forth  ; 
they  that  have  done  good,  to  the  resurrection  of  life  ;  and 
they  that  have  done  evil,  to  the  resurrection  of  damnation. 
John  V.  28.  Though  after  our  skin  worms  destroy  this 
body,  yet  i/i  our  flesh  shall  we  see  God,  whom  we  shall  see 
for  ourselves  ;  and  these  eyes  shall  behold  him,  and  not 
another.  Job.  xix.  26,  27.  Then  this  corruptible  [body] 
shall  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  im- 
mortality.     1  Cor.  XV.  23. 

As  the  characters,  and  consequently  the  doom  of 
mankind,  will  be  very  different,  so  we  may  reasonably 
suppose  they  will  rise  in  very  different  forms  of  glory  or 
dishonor,  of  beauty  or  deformity.  Their  bodies  indeed 
will  all  be  improved  to  the  highest  degree,  and  all  made 
visforous,  capacious,  and  immortal.  But  here  lies  the 
difference  :  the  bodies  of  the  righteous  will  be  strength- 
ened to  bear  an  exceeding  great  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory,  but  those  of  the  wicked  will  be  strengthened  to 
sustain  a  heavier  load  of  misery  ;  their  strength  will  be 
but  mere  strength  to  suffer  a  horrid  capacity  of  greater 
pain.  The  immortality  of  the  righteous  will  be  the 
duration  of  their  happiness,  but  that  of  the  wicked  of 
their  misery  ;  their  immortality,  the  highest  privilege  of 
their  nature,  will  be  their  heaviest  curse :  and  they 
vould  willingly  exchange  their  duration  with  an  insect 
of  a  day,  or  a  fading  flower.  The  bodies  of  the  righteous 
will  "  shine  as  the  sun,  and  as  the  stars  in  the  firmament 
for  ever  and  ever  ;"  but  those  of  the  wicked  will  be  grim 
and  shocking,  and  ugly,  and  hateful  as  hell.  The  bodies 
of  the  righteous  will  be  fit  mansions  for  their  heavenly 
spirits  to  inhabit,  and  every  feature  will  speak  the  de- 
lightful passions  that  agreeably  work  within  5  but  the 
wicked  will  be  but  spirits  of  hell  clothed  in  the  material 
bodies  ;  and  malice,  rage,  despair,  and  all  the  infernal 
passions,  will  lower  in  their  countenances,  and  cast  a  dis 
mal  gloom  around  them  !  0  !  they  will  then  be  noth- 
ing else  but  shapes  of  deformity  and  terror  !  they  will 
31* 


366  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT. 

look  like  the  natives  of  hell,  and  spread  horror  around 
them  with  every  look.* 

\\  ith  what  reluctance  may  v.'e  suppose  will  the  souls 
of  the  wicked  enter  again  into  a  state  of  union  with  these 
shocking  forms,  that  will  be  everlasting  engines  of  tor- 
ture to  them,  as  they  once  were  instruments  of  sin  !  But 
O  !  with  what  joy  will  the  souls  of  the  righteous  return 
to  their  old  habitations,  in  which  they  once  served  their 
God  with  honest,  though  feeble  endeavors,  now  so  glo- 
riously repaired  and  improved  !  How  will  they  congra- 
tulate the  resurrection  of  their  old  companions  from  their 
long  sleep  in  death,  now  made  lit  to  share  with  them  in 
the  sublime  employments  and  fruitions  of  heaven  !  Every 
organ  will  be  an  instrument  of  service  and  an  inlet  of 
pleasure,  and  the  soul  shall  no  longer  be  encumbered  but 
assisted  by  this  union  to  the  body.  O  what  surprising 
creatures  can  Omnipotence  raise  from  the  dust !  To 
what  a  high  degree  of  beauty  can  the  Almighty  refine 
the  offspring  of  the  earth  !  and  into  what  miracles  of 
glory  and  blessedness  can  he  form  them  If 

Now  the  Judge  is  come,  the  judgment-seat  is  erected, 
the  dead  are  raised.  And  what  follows  1  Y/hy  the  uni- 
versal convention  of  all  the  sons  of  men  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat. The  place  of  judgment  will  probably  be  the 
extensive  region  of  the  air,  the  most  capacious  for  the 
reception  of  such  a  multitude  ;  for  St.  Paul  tells  us,  the 
saints  shall  "  be  caught  up  together  in  the  clouds  to  meet 
the  Lord  in  the  air."  1  Thess.  iv.  17.  And  that  the  air 
will  be  the  place  of  judicature,  perhaps,  may  be  intimat- 
ed when  our  Lord  is  represented  as  coming  in  the  clouds, 
»ad  sitting  upon  a  cloudy  throne.     These  expressions 

*  How  weak,  how  pale,  how  liaggiird,  how  obscene, 
What  more  than  death  in  every  face  and  mien  ! 
With  what  distress,  and  glarings  of  affright 
They  sliock  llie  heart,  and  turn  away  the  si^ht ! 
In  gloomy  orbs  their  trembling  eye-balls  roll, 
And  tell  the  horrid  secrets  ol  the  soul. 
Each  gesture  mourns,  each  look  is  black  with  care  ; 
And  every  groan  is  loaden  with  despair. — Young. 

t  Mark,  on  tlie  right,  how  amiable  a  grace  ! 
Their  ISIiikf'r's  image  fresh  in  every  face! 
What  purple  bloom  my  ravish'd  soul  admires, 
And  lluir  eyes  s|)arkliug  with  i-nmortal  fires  ! 
Triumphant  beauty  !  charms  that  rise  above 

This  world,  and  in  blest  angels  kindle  love  ! 

O  !  the  transcendent  glories  of  the  Just  ! — Youno. 


THE    UINIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  367 

can  hardly  be  understood  literally,  for  clouds  which  con- 
.sist  of  vapors  and  rarified  particles  of  water,  seem  very 
improper  materials  for  a  chariot  of  state,  or  a  throne  of 
jiidg-ment;  but  they  may  very  properly  intimate  that 
Christ  will  make  his  appearance,  and  hold  his  court  in 
the  region  of  the  clouds  ;  that  is,  in  the  air;  and  per- 
haps that  the  rays  of  light  an3  majestic  darkness  shall 
be  so  blended  around  him  as  to  form  the  appearance  of 
a  cloud  to  the  view  of  the  wondering  and  gazing  v/orld. 

To  this  upper  region,  from  whence  our  globe  will  lie 
open  to  view  far  and  wide,  will  all  the  sons  of  men 
be  convened.  And  they  will  be  gathered  together  by 
the  ministry  of  angels,  the  officers  of  this  grand  court. 
'•  The  Son  of  man,  when  he  comes  in  the  clouds  of  hea- 
ven with  power  and  great  glory,  shall  send  forth  his  an- 
gels with  a  great  sound  of  the  trumpet ;  and  they  shall 
gather  togetlier  his  elect  from  the  four  winds,  and  from 
one  end  of  heaven  to  the  other."  Matt.  xxiv.  30,  31. 
Their  ministry  also  extends  to  the  wicked,  whom  they 
will  drag  away  to  judgment  and  execution,  and  separate 
from  the  righteous.  For  "  in  the  end  of  the  world," 
says  Christ,  "  the  Son  of  man  shall  send  forth  his  angels, 
and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  kingdom  all  things  that 
offend,  and  them  that  work  iniquity,  and  shall  cast  them 
into  a  furnace  of  fire  :  there  shall  be  wailing  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth."     Matt.  xiii.  40,  41,  42. 

What  an  august  convocation,  what  a  vast  assembly  is 
.this  !  See  flights  of  angels  darting  round  the  globe  from 
east  to  west,  from  pole  to  pole,  gathering  up  here  and 
there  the  scattered  saints,  choosing  them  out  from  among 
the  crowd  of  the  ungodly,  and  bearing  them  aloft  on 
their  wings  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air  !  while  the  wretch- 
ed crowd  look  and  gaze,  and  stretch  their  hands,  and 
would  mount  up  along  with  them  ;  but,  alas  !  they  must  be 
left  behind,  and  wait  for  another  kind  of  convoy  ;  a  con- 
voy of  cruel,  unrelenting  devils,  who  shall  snatch  them 
up  as  their  prey  with  malignant  joy,  and  place  them  before 
the  flaming  tribunal.  Now  all  the  sons  of  men  meet  in  one 
immense  assembly.  Adam  beholds  the  long  line  of  his 
posterity,  and  they  behold  their  common  father.  Now 
Europeans  and  Asiatics,  the  swarthy  sons  of  Africa  and 
the  savages  of  America,  mingle  together.  Christians, 
Jews,  Mahometans,  and  Pagans,  the  learned  and  the  ig- 


368  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT. 

norant,  kings  and  subjects,  rich  and  poor,  free  and  b(N.Q, 
form  one  promiscuous  crowd.  Now  all  the  vast  armies 
that  conquered  or  fell  under  Xerxes,  Darius,  Alexander, 
Csesar,  Scipio,  Tamerlane,  Marlborough,  and  other  illus- 
trious warriors,  unite  in  one  vast  army.  There,  m  short, 
all  the  successive  inhabitants  of  the  earth  for  thousands 
of  years  appear  in  one  assembly.  And  how  inconceiva- 
bly great  must  the  number  be  !  When  the  inhabitants 
of  but  one  county  are  met  together,  you  are  struck  with 
the  survey.  Were  all  the  inhabitants  of  a  kingdom  con- 
vened in  one  place,  how  much  more  striking  would  be 
the  sight  !  Were  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  kingdoms  of 
the  earth  convened  in  one  general  rendezvous,  how 
astonishing  and  vast  would  be  the  multitude  !  But  what 
is  even  this  vast  multitude  compared  with  the  long  suc- 
cession of  generations  that  have  peopled  the  globe,  in  all 
ages,  and  in  all  countries,  from  the  first  commencement 
of  time  to  the  last  day  !  Here  numbers  fail,  and  our 
thoughts  are  lost  in  the  immense  survey.  The  extensive 
region  of  the  air  is  very  properly  chosen  as  the  place  of 
judgment ;  for  this  globe  would  not  be  sufficient  for 
such  a  multitude  to  stand  upon.  In  that  prodigious  as- 
sembly, my  brethren,  you  and  I  must  mingle.  And  we 
shall  not  be  lost  in  the  crowd,  nor  escape  the  notice  of 
our  Judge  ;  but  his  eye  will  be  as  particularly  fixed  on 
every  one  of  us  as  though  there  were  but  one  before 
him. 

To  increase  the  number,  and  add  a  majesty  and  terror 
to  the  assembly,  the  fallen  angels  also  make  their  ap* 
pearance  at  the  bar.  This  they  have  long  expected  with 
horror,  as  the  period  w^hen  their  consummate  misery  is 
to  commence.  When  Christ,  in  the  form  of  a  servant, 
exercised  a  god-like  power  over  them  in  the  days  of  his 
residence  upon  earth,  they  almost  mistook  his  first  com- 
ing as  a  Savior  for  his  second  coming  as  their  Judge  ; 
and  therefore  they  expostulated,  ^rt  thou  come  to  tor- 
went  us  before  the  time  ?  Matt.  viii.  29.  That  is  to  say, 
We  expect  thou  wilt  at  last  appear  to  torment  us,  but  we 
did  not  expect  thy  coming  so  soon.  Agreeable  to  this, 
St.  Peter  tells  us,  "  God  spared  not  the  angels  that  sin- 
ned, but  cast  them  down  to  hell,  and  dehvered  them  as 
prisoners  into  chains  of  darkness,  to  be  reserved  unto 
judgment."  2  Peter   ii.  4.      To    the   same    purpose    St 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  369 

Jude  speaks  :  "  The  angeJs  which  kept  not  tlieir  first 
estate,  but  left  their  own  habitation,  he  hath  reserved  in 
everlasting  chains  under  darkness,  unto  the  judgment  of 
the  great  day."  Jude  6.  What  horribly  majestic  figures 
will  these  be  !  and  what  a  dreadful  appearance  will  they 
make  at  the  bar  !  angels  and  archangels,  thrones,  and 
dominions,  and  principalities,  and  powers  blasted,  strip- 
ped of  their  primeval  glories,  and  lying  in  ruins  ,•  yet 
majestic  even  in  ruins,  gigantic  forms  of  terror  and  de- 
formity ;  great  though  degraded,  horribly  illustrious,  an- 
gels fallen,  gods  undeified  and  deposed.* 

Now  the  judge  is  seated,  and  anxious  millions  stand 
before  him  waiting  for  their  doom.  As  yet  there  is  no 
separation  made  between  them ;  but  men  and  devils, 
saints  and  sinners,  are  promiscuously  blended  together. 
But  see  !  at  the  order  of  the  Judge,  the  crowd  is  all  in 
motion ;  they  part,  they  sort  together  according  to  their 
character,  and  divide  to  the  right  and  left.  "  When  all 
nations  are  gathered  before  the  Son  of  man,  hwiself  has 
told  us,  he  shall  separate  them  one  from  another,  as  a 
shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the  goats  ;  and  he  shall 
set  the  sheep  on  his  right  hand,  but  the  goats  on  the 
left."  Matt.  XXV.  32,  33.  And,  0 !  what  strange  separa- 
tions are  now  made  !  what  multitudes  that  once  ranked 
themselves  among  the  saints,  and  were  highly  esteemed 
for  their  piety,  by  others  as  well  as  themselves,  are  now 
banished  from  among  them,  and  placed  with  the  trem- 
bling criminals  on  the  left  hand !  and  how  many  poor, 
honest-hearted,  doubting,  desponding  souls,  whose  fore- 
bodinor  fears  had  often  placed  them  there,  now  find  them- 
selves,  to  their  agreeable  surprise,  stationed  on  the  rigiit 
hand  of  their  Judge,  who  smiles  upon  them  !  What  con- 
nections are  now  broken !  what  hearts  torn  asunder ! 
what  intimate  companions,  what  dear  relations  parted 
for  ever  !  neighbor  from  neighbor,  masters  from  servants, 
friend  from  friend,  parents  from  children,  husband  from 


-The  foe  of  God  and  man, 


From  his  dark  den,  blaspheming,  drags  his  chain, 

And  rears  his  blazing  front,  with  thunder  scarr'd  ; 

Receives  his  sentence,  and  begins  his  hell. 

All  vengeance  past,  now  seems  abundant  graco  ; 

Like  meteors  in  a  stormy  sky,  how  roll 

His  baleful  eyes  !  he  curses  whom  he  dreads, 

And  deems  it  the  first  moment  of  his  fall. — Youwo, 


370  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT. 

wife  ;  those  who  were  but  one  flesh,  and  who  lay  in  one 
another's  bosoms,  must  part  for  ever.  Those  that  lived  in 
the  same  country,  who  sustained  the  same  denomination, 
who  worshipped  in  the  same  place,  who  lived  under  one 
roof,  who  lay  in  the  same  womb,  and  sucked  the  same 
breasts,  must  now  part  for  ever.  And  is  there  no  sepa- 
ration likely  to  be  made  then  in  our  families  or  in  our 
congregation  1  Is  it  likely  we  shall  all  be  placed  in  a 
body  upon  the  right  hand  1  Are  all  the  members  of  our 
families  prepared  for  that  glorious  station  1  Alas  !  are 
there  not  some  families  among  us  w^ho,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
shall  all  be  sent  off  to  the  left  hand,  without  so  much  as 
one  exception  1  for  who  are  those  miserable  multitudes 
on  the  left  hand  1  There,  through  the  medium  of  reve- 
lation, I  see  the  drunkard,  the  swearer,  the  whoremonger, 
the  liar,  the  defrauder,  and  the  various  classes  of  profane, 
profligate  sinners.  There  I  see  the  unbeliever,  the  im- 
penitent, the  lukewarm  formalist,  and  the  various  classes 
of  hypocrites,  and  half-Christians.  There  I  see  the  fa- 
milies that  call  not  upon  God's  name,  and  whole  nations 
that  forget  him.  And,  0  !  what  vast  multitudes,  what 
millions  of  millions  of  millions  do  all  these  make!  And 
do  not  some,  alas  !  do  not  many  of  you  belong  to  one  or 
other  of  these  classes  of  sinners  w^hom  God,  and  Christ, 
and  scripture,  and  conscience  conspire  to  condemn  1  If 
so,  to  the  left  hand  you  must  depart  among  devils  and 
trembling  criminals,  whose  guilty  minds  forebode  their 
doom  before  the  judicial  process  begins.  But  who  are 
those  glorious  immortals  upon  the  right  hand  1  They 
are  those  who  have  surrendered  themselves  entirely  to 
God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  who  have  heartily  complied 
with  the  method  of  salvation  revealed  in  the  gospel ; 
who  have  been  formed  new  creatures  by  the  almighty 
power  of  God  ;  who  make  it  the  most  earnest  persever- 
ing endeavor  of  their  lives  to  work  out  their  own  salva- 
tion, and  to  live  righteously,  soberly,  and  godly  in  the 
world.  These  are  some  of  the  principal  lineaments  of 
their  character  who  shall  have  their  safe  and  honorable 
station  at  the  right  hand  of  the  sovereign  Judge.  And 
is  not  this  the  prevailing  character  of  some  of  you  '\  I 
hope  and  believe  it  is.  Through  the  medium  of  scrip- 
ture revelation  then  I  see  you  in  that  blessed  station. 
And,  O  !    I  would  make  an  appointment  with  you  thia 


THE    UNTVrrSAL    JUDCiMEKT.  371 

day  to  meet  you  there.  Yes,  let  us  this  day  appoint  the 
time  and  place  where  we  shall  meet  after  the  separation 
and  dispersion  that  death  will  make  among  us  :  and  let 
it  be  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Judge  at  the  last  day.  If  I 
be  so  happy  as  to  obtain  some  humble  place  there,  I  shall 
look  out  for  you,  my  dear  people.  There  I  shall  expect 
your  company,  that  we  may  ascend  together  to  join  in 
the  more  exalted  services  and  enjoyments  of  heaven,  as 
we  have  frequently  in  the  humbler  forms  of  worship  in 
the  church  on  earth.  But,  O  !  when  I  think  what  unex- 
pected separations  will  then  be  made,  I  tremble  lest  I 
should  miss  some  of  you  there.  Are  you  not  afraid  lest  you 
should  miss  some  of  your  friends,  or  some  of  your  fami- 
lies there  1  or  that  you  should  then  see  them  move  off  to 
the  left  hand,  and  looking  back  with  eagerness  upon  you, 
as  if  they  w^ould  say,  "  This  is  my  doom  through  your 
carelessness ;  had  you  but  acted  a  faithful  part  towards 
me,  while  conversant  with  you  or  under  your  care,  I 
might  nov/  have  had  my  place  among  the  saints."  O  ! 
how  could  you  bear  such  significant  piercing  looks  from 
a  child,  a  servant,  or  a  friend  !  Therefore  now  do  all  in 
your  pow  er  to  "  convert  sinners  from  the  error  of  their 
way,  and  to  save  their  souls  from  death." 

When  we  entered  upon  this  practical  digression,  w^e 
left  all  things  ready  for  the  judicial  process.  And  now 
the  trial  begins.  Now  "  God  judges  the  secrets  of  men 
by  Jesus  Christ."  Rom.  ii.  16.  All  the  works  of  all  the 
sons  of  men  will  then  be  tried  ;  "  For,"  says  St.  Paul, 
"  we  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ, 
that  every  man  may  receive  the  things  done  in  the  body, 
according  to  what  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good,  or 
whether  it  be  evil."  2  Cor.  v.  10.  St.  John  in  his 
vision  "  saw  the  ('cad  judged  according  to  their  works." 
Rev.  XX.  12,  13.  These  works  immediately  refer  to  the 
actions  of  the  life,  but  they  may  also  include  the  inward 
temper,  and  thoughts  of  the  soul,  and  the  w^ords  of  the 
rips;  for  all  these  shall  be  brought  into  judgment. 
'  God,"  says  Solomon,  "  will  bring  every  work  into 
judgment,  and  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good, 
or  whether  it  be  evil."  Eccl.  xii.  14.  And  though  we 
are  too  apt  to  think  our  words  are  free,  he  that  is  to  be 
our  Judge  has  told  us  that  "  for  every  idle  word  which 
men  shall  speak,  they  shall  give  an  account  in  the  day 


372  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT 

of  judgment  ;  for  by  thy  words,  as  well  as  thy  actions 
thou  shalt  be  justified  ;  and  by  thy  words  thou  shalt  be 
condemned."     Matt.  xii.  36,  37. 

What  strange  discoveries  will  this  trial  make  1  what 
noble  dispositions  that  never  shone  in  full  beauty  to 
mortal  eyes  ;  what  generous  purposes  crushed  in  em- 
bryo for  want  of  power  to  execute  them  ;  what  pious 
and  noble  actions  concealed  under  the  veil  of  modesty, 
or  misconstrued  by  ignorance  and  prejudice  ;  what 
affectionate  aspirations,  what  devout  exercises  of  heart, 
which  lay  open  only  to  the  eyes  of  Omniscience,  are 
now  brought  to  full  light,  and  receive  the  approbation  of 
the  Supreme  Judge  before  the  assembled  universe  1  But 
on  the  other  hand,  what  works  of  shame  and  darkness, 
what  hidden  things  of  dishonesty,  what  dire  secrets  of. 
treachery,  hypocrisy,  lewdness,  and  various  forms  of 
wickedness  artfully  and  industriously  concealed  from 
human  sight,  what  horrid  exploits  of  sin  now  burst  to 
light  in  all  their  hellish  colors,  to  the  confusion  of  the 
guilty,  and  the  astonishment  and  horror  of  the  universe  1 
Sure,  the  history  of  mankind  must  then  appear  like  the 
annals  of  hell,  or  the  biography  of  devils  !  Then  the 
mask  of  dissimulation  will  be  torn  off  Clouded  charac- 
ters will  clear  up,  and  men  as  well  as  things  will  appear 
in  their  true  light.  Their  hearts  ivill  be  as  it  were  turn- 
ed outwards,  and  all  their  secrets  exposed  to  full  view. 
The  design  of  the  judicial  inquiry  Avill  not  be  to  inform 
the  omniscient  Judge,  but  to  convince  all  worlds  of  the 
justice  of  his  proceedings  ;  and  this  design  renders  it 
necessary  that  all  these  things  should  be  laid  open  to 
their  sight,  that  they  may  see  the  grounds  upon  which 
he  passes  sentence  And  may  not  the  prospect  of  s'lch 
a  discovery  fill  some  of  you  with  horror  %  for  many  of 
your  actions,  and  especially  of  your  thoughts,  will  not 
bear  the  light.  How  would  it  confound  you,  if  they 
were  now  all  published,  even  in  the  small  circle  of  your 
acquaintance  (  How  then  can  you  bear  to  have  them  all 
fully  exposed  before  God,  angels,  and  men  !  AVill  it 
not  confound  you  with  shame,  and  make  you  objects  of 
everlasting  contempt  to  all  worlds  1 

These  are  the  facts  to  be  tried.  But  by  what  rule 
shall  they  be  tried  \  From  the  goodness  and  justice  of 
God  we  may  conclude  that  men  will  be  judged  by  some 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  873 

rule  known  to  them,  or  which  at  least  it  was  in  tlieir 
power  to  know.  Now  the  light  of  reason,  the  law  of 
nature,  or  conscience,  is  a  universal  rule,  and  universally- 
known,  or  at  least  knowable  by  all  the  sons  of  men, 
heathens  and  Mahometans,  as  well  as  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians :  and  therefore  all  mankind  shall  be  judged  by  this 
rule.  This  the  consciences  of  all  now  forebodes  ;  "  for 
when  the  Gentiles  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature 
the  things  contained  in  the  law,  these,  not  having  the 
law,  are  a  law  unto  themselves,  which  show  the  works 
of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts,  their  conscience  al&o 
bearing  witness,  and  their  thoughts,  the  mean  while, 
accusing  or  else  excusing  one  another."  Rom.  ii.  14, 
15.  By  this  rule  their  consciences  now  acquit  or  con- 
demn them,  because  they  know  that  by  this  rule  they 
shall  then  be  judged  :  this  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  innate 
presentiment  of  human  nature.  As  the  heathens  were 
invincibly  ignorant  of  every  rule  but  this,  they  shall  be 
judged  by  this  only.  But  as  to  those  parts  of  the  world 
that  enjoyed,  or  might  enjoy  the  advantages  of  revela- 
tion, whether  by  tradition  with  the  Anti-Mosaic  world, 
or  in  the  writings  of  Moses  and  the  prophets  wit'^  the 
Jews,  or  in  the  clearer  dispensation  of  the  gospel  with 
the  Christian  world,  they  shall  be  judged  by  this  reveal- 
ed law.  And  by  how  much  the  more  perfect  the  rule,  by 
so  much  the  stricter  will  their  account  be.  That  which 
would  be  an  excusable  infirmity  in  an  African  or  an 
American  Indian,  may  be  an  aggravated  crime  in  us  who 
enjoy  such  superior  advantages.  This  is  evident  from 
the  repeated  declarations  of  sacred  writ.  "  As  many 
as  have  sinned  without  the  law,  (that  is,  without  the 
Avritten  law,)  shall  also  perish  without  the  law  ;  and  as 
many  as  have  sinned  in  the  law  shall  be  judged  by  the 
law,  in  the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men 
according  to  my  gospel."  Rom.  ii.  12,  16.  "  If  I  had 
not  come  and  spoken  unto  them,"  says  the  blessed 
Jesus,  "  they  would  not  have  had  sin  ;"  that  is,  they 
would  not  have  had  sin  so  aggravated,  or  they  would  not 
have  had  the  particular  sin  of  unbelief  in  rejecting  the 
Messiah  :  hut  now  they  have  no  cloak  for  their  sin,  John 
XV.  22 ;  that  is,  now  when  they  have  had  such  abundant 
conviction,  they  are  utterly  inexcusable.  "  This," 
says  he,  "  is  the  condemnation  j"  that  is,  this  is  the 
32 


374  THE    UIslVERS-eL   JUDGMENT. 

occasion  of  the  most  aggravated  condemnation  ;  '^  that 
light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love  darkness 
rather  than  hght,  because  their  deeds  are  evil."  John 
iii.  19.  "  That  servant  which  knew  his  Lord's  will,  and 
prepared  not  himself,  neither  did  according  to  his  will, 
shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes  ;  but  he  that  knew 
not,  and  did  commit  things  worthy  of  stripes,  (observe, 
ignorance  is  no  sufficient  excuse,  except  when  invinci- 
ble,) shall  be  beaten  v\'ith  few  stripes  ;  for  unto  whom- 
soever much  is  given,  of  him  shall  be  much  required." 
Luke  xii.  47,  48.  Upon  these  maxims  of  eternal  right- 
ousness,  the  Judge  will  proceed  in  pronouncing  the  doom 
of  the  world  ;  and  it  was  upon  these  principles  he  de- 
clared, in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  "  that  it  should  be  more 
tolerable  in  the  day  of  judgment  for  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah, for  Tyre  and  Sidon,"  than  for  those  places  that  en- 
joyed the  advantages  of  his  ministry,  and  misimproved 
it.  Matt.  xi.  21,  24.  Whether  upon  these  principles 
sinners  among  us  have  not  reason  to  expect  they  will 
obtain  a  horrid  precedence  among  the  million  of  sinners 
in  that  day,  I  leave  you  to  judge,  and  to  tremble  at  the 
thought. 

There  is  another  representation  of  this  proceeding, 
which  we  often  meet  with  in  the  sacred  writings,  in  al- 
lusion to  the  forms  of  proceedings  in  human  courts.  In 
courts  of  law,  law-books  are  referred  to,  opened,  and 
read  for  the  direction  of  the  judges,  and  sentence  is  pass- 
ed according  to  them.  In  allusion  to  this  custom,  Dan- 
iel, in  vision,  saw  the  judgment-seat^  and  the  books  were 
opened  :  Dan.  vii.  10.  And  St.  John  had  the  same  re- 
presentation made  to  him :  "  I  saw  the  dead,"  says  he, 
"  small  and  great,  stand  before  God,  and  the  books  were 
opened  ;  and  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the  book 
of  life  ;  and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  the  things 
which  were  written  in  the  books,  according  to  their 
works :  Rev.  xx.  12. 

Should  we  pursue  this  significant  allusion,  we  may 
say,  then  will  be  opened  the  book  of  the  law  of  nature ; 
and  mankind  will  be  tried  according  to  its  precepts,  and 
doomed  according  to  its  sentence.  This  is  a  plain  and 
vast  volume,  open  and  legible  now  to  all  that  can  read 
their  own  hearts  ;  that  have  eyes  to  look  round  upon  the 
works  of  God,  which  show  his  glory  and  their  duty ;  and 


THE    UKIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  375 

who  have  ears  to  hear  the  lectures  which  the  sun  and 
moon,  and  all  the  works  of  creation,  read  to  them  night 
and  day.  Then,  tbo,  v.ill  be  opened  the  book  of  scrip- 
ture-revelation, in  all  its  parts,  both  the  law  of  Moses 
and  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  and  according  to  it  will  those 
be  judged  who  lived  under  one  or  other  of  these  dispen- 
sations. Then  it  will  appear  that  that  neglected,  old- 
fashioned  book  called  the  Bible  is  not  a  romance,  or  a 
system  of  trifling  truths,  but  the  standard  of  life  and 
death  to  all  who  had  access  to  it.  Then  will  also  be 
opened  the  book  of  God's  remembrance.  In  that  are 
recorded  all  the  thoughts,  words,  actions,  both  good  and 
bad,  of  all  the  sons  of  men  :  and  now  the  immense  ac- 
count shall  be  publicly  read  before  the  assembled  uni- 
verse. Then,  likewise,  as  a  counterpart  to  this,  will  be 
opened  the  book  of  conscience ;  conscience  which, 
though  unnoticed,  writes  our  whole  history  as  with  an 
iron  pen  and  the  point  of  a  diamond.*  Then,  also,  we 
are  expressly  told,  will  be  opened  the  book  of  life  ;  Rev. 
XX.  12,  in  which  are  contained  all  the  names  of  all  the 
heirs  of  heaven.  This  seems  to  be  an  allusion  to  those 
registers  which  are  kept  in  cities  or  corporations,  of  the 
names  of  all  the  citizens  or  members  who  have  a  right 
to  all  the  privileges  of  the  society.  And  I  know  not 
what  we  can  understand  by  it  so  properly  as  the  perfect 
knowledge  which  the  omniscient  God  has,  and  always 
had  from  eternity,  of  those  on  whom  he  purposed  to  be- 
stow eternal  life,  and  whom  he  h;fs  from  eternity,  as  it 
were,  registered  as  members  of  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first-born,  who  are  written  in   heaven,  or 

•  O  treacherous  Conscience  !  while  she  seems  to  sleep 
On  rose  and  myrtle,  luU'd  with  Syren  song  ; 
While  she  seems,  nodding  o'er  her  charge,  to  drop 
On  headlong  appetite  the  slacUen'd  reign, 
And  give  us  up  to  license  unrecall'd, 
Unmark'd — as  IVom  behind  her  secret  stand 
The  sly  informer  minutes  every  fault, 
And  her  dread  diary  with  horror  fills — 
Unnoted  notes  each  moment  misapply'd, 
In  leaves  more  durable  than  leavt-s  of  brass, 
Writes  our  whole  history  ;  which  Death  shall  read 
In  every  pale  ollender's  private  ear  ; 
And  Judgment  publish,  publish  to  more  worlds 
Than  this  ;  and  endless  age  in  groans  resound. 
Such,  sinner,  is  that  sleeper  in  thy  breast  • 
Such  is  her  slumber;  and  her  vengeance  such 
For  slighted  counsel Yoinra. 


376  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT. 

as  denizens  of  that  blessed  city.  These,  having  been  ali 
prepared  by  his  grace  in  time,  shall  be  admitted  into  the 
New  Jerusalem  in  that  day  of  the  Lord. 

Farther,  the  representation  which  the  scripture  gives 
us  of  the  proceedings  of  that  day  leads  us  to  conceive 
of  witnesses  being  produced  to  prove  the  facts.  The 
omniscient  Judge  will  be  a  witness  against  the  guilty. 
"  I  will  come  near  to  you  to  judgment,  and  I  will  be  a 
swift  witness  against  the  sorcerers,  and  against  the 
swearers,  and  against  the  adulterers,  and  against  those 
that  oppress,  and  against  those  that  fear  not  me,  saith  the 
Lord  of  Hosts :  "  Mai.  iii.  5.  And  he  will,  no  doubt,  be 
a  witness  for  his  people,  and  attest  their  sincere  piety, 
their  interest  in  Christ,  and  those  good  dispositions  or 
actions  w^hich  were  known  only  to  him. 

Angels  also,  that  ministered  to  the  heirs  of  salvation, 
and  no  doubt  inspected  the  affairs  of  mankind,  will  be 
witnesses.  Devils  too,  who  once  tempted,  will  now  be- 
come accusers.  Conscience  within  will  also  be  a  wit- 
ness !  it  shall  acquit  the  righteous  of  many  unjust  im- 
putations, and  attest  the  sincerity  of  their  hearts  and 
their  many  good  actions.  But  O  !  it  will  be  the  most 
terrible  witness  against  the  ungodly  ! — They  will  be  wit- 
nesses against  themselves,  (Josh.  xxiv.  22,)  and  this  will 
render  them  self-tormentors.  Conscience  will  re-echo 
to  the  voice  of  the  Judge,  and  cry,  Guilty,  guilty,  to  all 
his  accusations.  And  who  can  make  the  wicked  happy 
when  they  torment  themselves  1  Who  can  acquit  them 
when  they  are  self-condemned  1  Conscience,  whose  evi- 
dence is  now  so  often  suppressed,  will  then  have  full 
scope,  and  shall  be  regarded.  Whom  concience  con 
demns  the  righteous  Judge  will  also  condemn  j  for,  "  if  our 
hearts  condemn  us,  God  is  greater  than  our  hearts,  and 
knoweth  all  things,"  1  John  iii.  20,  know^eth  many  more 
grounds  for  condeming  us  than  we,  and  therefore  much 
more  will  he  condemn  us.  In  short,  so  full  will  be  the 
evidence  against  the  sinner,  that  the  scripture  which  is 
full  of  striking  imagery  to  affect  human  nature,  gives  life 
to  inanimated  things  upon  this  occasion,  and  represents 
them  as  speaking.  Stones  and  dust  shall  witness  against 
the  ungodly.  The  dust  under  the  feet  of  their  ministers 
shall  witness  against  them  :  Matt.  x.  14.  "  The  stone 
shall  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the  timber 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  377  >v 

shall  answer  it."  Hab.  ii.  11.  The  rust  of  their  ^old 
and  silver  shall  be  a  witness  against  them,  and  shall  eat 
their  flesh  as  it  were  fire.  James  v.  3.  Nay,  the  heav- 
ens shall  reveal  their  iniquity,  and  the  earth  shall  rise  up 
against  them.  Job  xx.  27.  Heaven  and  earth  were  call- 
ed to  witness  that  life  and  death  were  set  before  them, 
Deut.  XXX.  19,  and  now  tiiey  will  give  in  their  evidence 
that  they  chose  death.  Thus  God  and  all  his  creatures, 
heaven,  earth,  and  hell,  rise  up  against  them,  accuse  and 
condemn  them.  And  will  not  sinners  accuse  and  witness 
against  one  another  1  Undoubtedly  they  will.  They 
who  lived  or  conversed  together  upon  earth,  and  were 
spectators  of  each  other's  conduct,  will  then  turn  mutual 
witnesses  against  each  other.  0,  tremendous  thought ! 
that  friend  should  inform  and  witness  against  friend  ;  pa- 
rents against  children,  and  children  against  parents ; 
ministers  against  their  people,  and  people  against  their 
ministers;  alas!  what  a  confounding  testimony  against 
each  other  must  those  give  in  who  are  now  sinning  to- 
gether ! 

Thus  the  way  is  prepared  for  the  passing  sentence. 
The  case  was  always  clear  to  the  omniscient  Judge,  but 
now  it  is  so  fully  discussed  and  attested  by  so  many  evi- 
dences, that  it  is  quite  plain  to  the  whole  world  of  crea- 
tures, who  can  judge  only  by  such  evidence,  and  for 
whose  conviction  the  formality  of  a  judicial  process  is 
appointed.  How  long  a  time  this  grand  court  will  sit, 
we  cannot  determine,  nor  has  God  thought  fit  to  inform 
us ;  but  when  we  consider  how  ]  articular  the  trial  will 
be,  and  the  innumerable  multitude  to  be  tried,  it  seems 
reasonable  to  suppose  it  will  be  a  long  session.  It  is  in- 
deed often  called  a  day ;  but  it  is  evident  a  day  in  such 
cases  does  not  signify  a  natural  day,  but  the  space  of 
time  allotted  for  transacting  a  business,  though  it  be  a 
hundred  or  even  a  thousand  years.  Creatures  are  inca- 
pable of  viewing  all  things  at  once,  and  therefore,  since 
the  trial,  as  I  observed,  is  intended  to  convince  them  of 
the  equity  of  the  divine  proceedings,  it  is  proper  the  pro- 
ceedings should  be  particular  and  leisurely,  that  they 
may  have  time  to  observe  them. 

We  are  now  come  to  the  grand  crisis,  upon  which  the 
eternal  states  of  all  mankind  turn ;  I  mean  the  passing 
the  great  decisive  sentence.  Heaven  and  earth  are  all 
32* 


378  THE    UMVEKSAL    JUDGMENT. 

silence  and  attention,  while  the  Judge,  with  smiles  in  his 
face,  and  a  voice  sweeter  than  heavenly  music,  turns  to 
the  glorious  company  on  his  right  hand,  and  pours  all 
the  joys  of  heaven  into  their  souls,  in  that  transporting 
sentence,  of  which  he  has  graciously  left  us  a  copy ; 
Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prep  area 
for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  Every  word  is 
full  of  emphasis,  full  of  heaven,  and  exactly  agreeable  to 
the  desires  of  those  to  whom  it  is  addressed.  They  de- 
sired, and  longed,  and  languished  to  be  near  their  Lord  ; 
and  now  their  Lord  invites  them.  Come  near  me,  and 
dwell  with  me  for  ever.  There  was  nothing  they  de- 
sired so  much  as  the  blessing  of  God,  nothing  they  fear- 
ed so  much  as  his, curse,  and  now  their  fears  are  entirely 
removed,  and  their  designs  fully  accomplished,  for  the 
supreme  Judge  pronounces  them  blessed  of  his  Father. 
They  were  all  poor  in  spirit,  most  of  them  poor  in  this 
world,  and  all  sensible  of  their  unworthiness.  How 
agreeably  then  are  they  surprised,  to  hear  themselves 
invited  to  a  kingdom,  invited  to  inherit  a  Ivingdom,  as 
princes  of  the  blood-royal,  born  to  thrones  and  crowns ! 
How  will  they  be  lost  in  \\ondcr,  joy,  and  praise,  to  find 
that  the  great  God  entertained  thoughts  of  love  towards 
them,  before  they  had  a  being,  or  the  world  in  which 
they  dwelt  had  its  foundation  laid,  and  that  he  was  pre- 
paring a  kingdom  for  them  while  they  were  nothing,  un- 
known even  in  idea,  except  to  himself!  O!  brethren, 
dare  any  of  us  expeci  this  sentence  will  be  passed  upon 
us  \  Methinks  the  ve  y  thought  overwhelms  us.  Me- 
thinks  our  feeble  frames  must  be  unable  to  bear  up  un- 
der the  extatic  hope  of  so  sweetly  oppressive" a  blessed- 
ness. O  !  if  this  be  our  sentence  in  that  day,  it  is  no 
matter  what  we  suffer  in  the  intermediate  space  ;  that 
sentence  would  compensate  for  all,  and  annihilate  the 
sufferings  of  ten  thousand  years. 

But  hark  !  anotlier  sentence  breaks  from  the  mouth  of 
the  angry  Judge,  like  vengeful  thunder.  Nature  gives 
a  deep  tremendous  groan  ;  tlie  heavens  lower  and  gather 
blackness,  the  earth  trembles,  and  guilty  millions  sink 
with  horror  nt  the  sound  !  And  see,  he.  whose  w  ords 
are  works,  whose  fiat  produces  worlds  out  of  nothing  ;  he 
who  could  remand  ten  thousand  worlds  into  nothing  at  a 
frown ;  he  whose  thunder  quelled  the  insurrection  of  rebel 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMExNT.  37J 

angels  in  heaven,  and  hurled  them  headlong  down,  down, 
down,  to  the  dungeon  of  hell ;  see,  he  turns  to  the  guilty 
crowd  on  his  left  hand  ;  his  angry  countenance  discov 
ers  the  righteous  indignation  that  glows  in  his  breast. 
His  countenance  bespeaks  him  inexorable,  and  that  there 
is  now  no  room  for  prayers  and  tears.  Now^,  the  sweet, 
mild,  mediatorial  hour  is  past,  and  nothing  appears  but 
the  majesty  and  terror  of  the  judge.  Horror  and  darkness 
frown  upon  his  brows,  and  vindictive  lightnings  flash  from 
his  eyes.  And  now,  (O  !  who  can  bear  the  sound  !)  he 
speaks,  "  Depart  from  me  ye  cursed,  into  evelasting  fire 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels."  O  !  the  cutting 
emphasis  of  every  word  !  Depart !  depart  from  me  ;  from 
Me,  the  Author  of  all  good,  the  Fountain  of  all  good, 
the  Fountain  of  all  happiness.  Depart,  with  all  my 
heavy,  all-consuming  curse  upon  you.  Depart  into  fire, 
into  everlasting,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared,  furnished 
with  fuel,  and  blown  up  into  rage,  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels,  once  your  companions  in  sin,  and  now 
the  companions  and  executioners  of  your  punishment. 

Now  the  grand  period  is  arrived  in  which  the  final, 
everlasting  states  of  mankind  are  unchangeably  settled. 
From  this  all  important  era  their  happiness  or  misery 
runs  on  in  one  uniform,  uninterrupted  tenor  ;  no  change. 
no  gradation,  but  from  glory  to  glory,  in  the  scale  of 
perfection,  or  from  gulf  to  gulf  in  hell.  This  is  the  day 
in  which  all  the  schemes  of  Providence,  carried  on  for 
thousands  of  years,  terminate. 

''  Great  day  !  for  which  all  other  days  were  made  : 
For  which  earth  rose  from  chaos  :  man  from  earth : 
And  an  eternity,  tlie  date  of  gods, 
Descended  on  poor  earth-created  man  !"' — Young. 

Time  was  ;  but  is  no  more  !  Now  all  the  sons  of  men 
enter  upon  a  duration  not  to  be  measured  by  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  sun,  nor  by  days,  and  months,  and  years. 
Now  eternity  dawns,  a  day  that  shall  never  see  an  even- 
ing. And  this  terribly  illustrious  morninof  is  solemnized 
with  the  execution  of  the  sentence.  No  sooner  is  it 
passed  than  immediately  the  wicked  "  go  away  into  ever- 
lasting punishment,  but  the  righteous  into  life  eternal." 
Matt.  XXV.  46.  See  the  astonished  thunder-struck  mul- 
titude on  the  left   hand,  with  sullen  horror,  and  grief, 


380  THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGME^'T. 

and  despair  in  their  looks,  writhing  with  agony,  crying 
and  wringing  their  hands,  and  glancing  a  wishful  eye  to- 
wards that  heaven  which  they  lost :  dragged  away  by 
devils  to  the  place  of  execution  !  See  hell  expands  her 
voracious  jaws,  and  swallows  them  up !  and  now  an 
eternal  farewell  to  earth  and  all  its  enjoyments  !  Fare- 
well to  the  cheerful  light  of  heaven  !  Farewell  to  hope, 
that  sweet  relief  of  affliction  ! 

'•'  Faiewell,  happy  fields, 

Where  joy  forever  dwells  !     Hail,  horrors  !  hail, 
Infernal  world  !  and  ihou,  profoundest  hell, 
Receive  thy  new  possessors  !" — Milton. 

Heaven  frowns  upon  them  trom  above,  the  horrors  of 
hell  spread  far  and  wide  around  them,  and  conscience 
within  preys  upon  their  hearts.  Conscience  !  0  thou 
abused,  exasperated  power,  that  now  sleepest  in  so  many 
breasts,  what  severe,  ample  revenge  wilt  thou  then  take 
upon  those  that  now  dare  to  do  thee  violence  !  O  the 
dire  reflections  which  memory  will  then  suggest !  the 
remembrance  of  mercies  abused !  of  a  Savior  slighted ! 
of  means  and  opportunities  of  salvation  neglected  and 
lost !  this  remembrance  will  sting  the  heart  like  a  scor- 
pion. But  O  eternity!  eternity  !  with  what  horror  will 
thy  name  circulate  through  the  vaults  of  hell !  eternity 
in  misery  !  no  end  to  pain  !  no  hope  of  an  end  !  O  this 
is  the  hell  of  hell !  this  is  the  parent  of  despair !  despair 
the  direst  ingredient  of  misery,  the  most  tormenting  pas- 
sion which  devils  feeL — But  let  us  view  a  more  delight- 
ful and  illustrious  scene. 

See  the  bright  and  triumphant  army  marching  up  to 
their  eternal  home,  under  the  conduct  of  the  Captain  of 
their  salvation,  where  they  shall  ever  he  with  the  Lord,  1 
Thess.  iv.  17,  as  happy  as  their  nature  in  its  highest  im- 
provements is  capable  of  being  made.  With  what  shouts 
of  joy  and  triumph  do  they  ascend  !  with  what  sublime 
hallelujahs  do  they  crown  their  Deliverer  !  with  what 
wonder  and  joy,  with  what  pleasing  horror,  like  one  that 
has  narrowly  escaped  some  tremendous  precipice,  do 
they  look  back  upon  what  they  once  were  !  once  mean, 
guilty,  depraved,  condeumed  sinners !  afterward  imper- 
fect, broken-hearted,  sighing,  weeping  saints  !  but  now 
innocent,  holy,  happy,  glorious  immortals ! 


THE    UNIVERSAL    JUDGMENT.  381 

''  Are  these  the  forms  tliat  mouldered  in  the  dust? 
O  the  transcendent  glories  of  the  just !'' — Young. 

Now  with  what  pleasure  and  rapture  do  they  look  for- 
ward through  the  long,  long  prospect  of  immortality, 
and  call  it  their  own  !  the  duration  not  only  of  their  ex- 
istence, but  of  their  happiness  and  glory  !  0  shall  any 
of  us  share  in  this  immensely  vakiable  privilege  !  how 
immensely  transporting  the  thought ! 

"  Shall  we,  who  some  few  years  ago  were  less 
Than  worm,  or  mile,  or  shadow  can  express  ; 
Were  nothing  ;  shall  we  live,  when  every  fire 
Of  every  star  shall  languish  or  expire  ? 
When  earth  's  no  more,  shall  we  survive  above, 
And  througli  the  shining  ranks  of  angels  move? 
Or,  as  before  the  throne  of  God  we  stand, 
See  new  worlds  rolling  from  his  mighty  hand  ? — 
All  that  has  being  in  full  concert  join. 
And  celebrate  the  depths  of  love  divine  !'' — Youno. 

O  what  exploits,  what  miracles  of  power  and  grace, 
are  these  1  But  why  do  I  darken  such  splendors  with 
words  without  knowledge  1  the  language  of  mortals  was 
formed  for  lower  descriptions.  "  Eye  hath  not  seen, 
ear  has  not  heard,  nor  have  entered  into  the  heart  of 
man  the  things  that  God  hath  laid  up  for  them  that  love 
him."   1  Cor.  ii.  9. 

And  now  when  the  inhabitants  of  our  world,  for  whose 
sake  it  was  formed,  are  all  removed  to  other  regions, 
and  it  is  left  a  wide  extended  desert,  what  remains,  but 
that  it  also  meet  its  fate  1  It  is  fit  so  guilty  a  globe, 
that  had  been  the  stage  of  sin  for  so  many  thousands  of 
years,  and  which  even  supported  the  cross  on  which  its 
Maker  expired,  should  be  made  a  monument  of  the  divine 
displeasure,  and  either  be  laid  in  ruins,  or  refined  by 
fire.  And  see  !  the  universal  blaze  begins  !  "  the  heav- 
ens pass  away  with  a  great  noise  ;  the  elements  melt 
with  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  and  the  works  that  are 
therein  are  burnt  up."  2  Pet.  iii.  10.  Now  stars  rush 
from  their  orbits  ;  comets  glare  ;  the  earth  trembles  with 
convulsions  ;  the  Alps,  the  Andes,  and  all  the  lofty  peaks 
or  long  extended  ridges  of  mountains  burst  out  into  so 
many  burning  TEtnas,  or  thunder,  and  lighten,  and 
smoke,  and  flame,  and  quake  like  Sinai,  when  God  de- 
scended upon  it  to  publish  his  fiery  law  !  Rocks  melt  and 
run  down  in  torrents  of  flame  ;  rivers,  lakes,  and  oceans 


382  THE    UMVERSAL    JUDG3IENT. 

boil  and  evaporate.  Sheets  of  lire  and  pillars  of  smoke, 
outrageous  and  insufferable  thunders  and  lightnings  burst, 
and  bellow,  and  blaze,  and  involve  the  atmosphere  from 
pole  to  pole.*'  The  whole  globe  is  now  dissolved  into 
a  shoreless  ocean  of  liquid  fire.  And  where  now  shall 
we  find  the  places  where  cities  stood,  where  armies 
fought,  where  mountains  stretched  their  ridges,  and 
reared  their  heads  on  high  1  Alas !  they  are  all  lost, 
and  have  left  no  trace  behind  them  where  they  once 
stood.  Where  art  thou,  0  my  country  \  Sunk  with  the 
rest  as  a  drop  into  the  burning  ocean.  Where  now  are 
your  houses,  ^^our  lands,  and  those  earthly  possessions 
you  were  once  so  fond  of?  They  are  nowhere  to  be 
found.  How  sorry  a  portion  for  an  immortal  mind  is 
such  a  dying  world  as  this !     And,  O  ! 

*'  How  rich  (hat  God  who  can  such  charge  defray, 

And  bear  to  fling  ten  thousand  worlds  away  !"  Young. 

Thus,  my  brethren  !  I  have  given  you  a  view  of  the 
solemnities  of  the  last  day  which  our  world  shall  see. 
The  view  has  indeed  been  but  very  faint  and  obscure  : 
and  siich  will  be  all  our  views  and  descriptions  of  it,  till 
our  eyes  and  our  ears  teach  us  better.  Through  these 
avenues  you  will  at  length  receive  your  instructions. 
Yes,  brethren,  those  ears  that  now  hear  my  voice  shall 
hear  the  all-alarming  clangor  of  the  last  trumpet,  the 
decisive  sentence  from  the  mouth  of  the  universal  Judge, 
and  the  horrid  crash  of  falling  worlds.  These  very  eyes 
with  which  you  now  see  one  another,  shall  yet  see  the 
descending  Judge,  the  assembled  multitudes,  and  all  the 
majestic  phenomena  of  that  day.  And  we  shall  not  see 
them  as  indifferent  spectators  ;  no,  we  are  as  much  con- 
cerned'in  this  great  transaction  as  any  of  the  children  of 
men.  We  must  all  appear  before  the  judgment-seat, 
and  receive  our  sentence  according  to  the  deeds  done  in 
the  body.  And  if  so,  what  are  we  doing  that  we  are  not 
more  diligently  preparing  1  Why  does  not  the  prospect 
affect  us  more  1  Why  does  it  not  transport  the  righteous 

•  "  See  all  the  formidable  sons  of  Fire, 

Eruptions,  Earthq^uakcs,  Comets,  Lightnings  play 
Their  various  engmes  ;  all  at  once  discharge 
Their  blazing  magazines  ;  and  take  by  storm 
This  poor  terrestrial  citadel  of  man." — Young. 


THE    U.MVERSAL    JUDGMtAT.  383 

with  joij  unspeakable^  and  full  of  glory  I  1  Peter  i.  8 
And  why  are  not  the  sinners  in  Zion  afraid  I  Why  does 
not  fearf Illness  surprise  the  hypocrites  ?  Isa.  .vxxiii.  14. 
Can  one  of  you  be  careless  from  this  hour  till  you  are 
in  readiness  for  that  tremendous  day  \ 

What,  do  the  sinners  among  you  now  think  of  repent- 
ance 1  Repentance  is  the  grand  preparative  for  this 
awful  day  ;  and  the  apostle,  as  1  observed,  mentions  the 
final  judgment  in  my  text  as  a  powerful  motive  to  re- 
pentance. And  what  will  criminals  think  of  repentance 
when  they  see  the  Judge  ascend  his  throne  1  Come, 
sinners,  look  forward  and  see  the  flaming  tribunal  erect- 
ed, your  crimes  exposed,  your  doom  pronounced,  and 
your  hell  begun  ;  see  a  whole  world  demolished,  and 
ravaged  by  boundless  conflagration  for  your  sins !  With 
these  objects  before  you,  I  call  you  to  repent ! — I  call 
you  !  I  retract  the  words  :  God,  the  great  God  whom 
heaven  and  earth  obey,  commands  you  to  repent.  What- 
ever be  your  characters,  whether  rich  or  poor,  old  or 
young,  white  or  black,  wherever  you  sit  or  stand,  this 
command  reaches  you  ;  for  God  now  commandcth  all  men 
everywhere  to  repe?it.  You  are  this  day  firmly  bound  to 
this  duty  by  his  authority.  And  dare  you  disobey  with 
the  prospect  of  all  the  awful  solemnities  of  judgment 
before  you  in  so  near  a  view  1  O  !  methinks  I  have  now 
brought  you  into  such  a  situation,  that  the  often  repeat- 
ed but  hitherto  neglected  call  to  repentance  will  be  re- 
garded by  you.  Repent  you  must,  either  upon  earth  or 
in  hell.  You  must  either  spend  your  time  or  your  eter- 
nity in  repentance.  It  is  absolutely  unavoidable.  Putting 
it  ofl  now  does  not  remove  the  necessity,  but  will  only 
render  it  the  more  bitter  and  severe  hereafter.  Which 
then  do  you  choose  \  the  tolerable,  hopeful,  medicinal 
repentance  of  the  present  life,  or  the  intolerable,  unpro- 
fitable, despairing  repentance  of  hell?  Will  you  choose 
to  spend  time  or  eternity  in  this  melancholy  exercise  1 
O  !  make  the  choice  which  God,  which  reason,  which 
self-interest,  wdiich  common  sense  recommend  to  you. 
Now  repent  at  the  command  of  God,  because  he  hath  ap' 
pointed  a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world  in  righte- 
ousness^ by  that  Man  whom  he  hath  ordained^  of  which  he 
hath  given  you  all  full  assurance  in  that  he  raised  him  from 
the  dead.     AME^^ 


384  THE    ONE    THIKG    NEEDFUL 

SERMON  XXI. 

THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL. 

Luke  x.  41,  42. — ^nd  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her 
Martha^  Martha^  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about 
many  things  ;  but  one  thing  is  needful :  and  Mary  hath 
chosen  that  good  part ^  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
her 

For  what  are  we  placed  in  this  world  1  Is  it  to  dwell 
here  always  1  You  cannot  think  so,  when  the  millions  of 
mankind  that  have  appeared  upon  the  stage  of  time  are 
so  many  instances  of  the  contrary.  The  true  notion 
therefore  of  the  present  state  is,  that  it  is  a  state  of  pre- 
paration and  trial  for  the  eternal  world ;  a  state  of  edu- 
cation for  our  adult  age.  As  children  are  sent  to  school, 
and  youth  bound  out  to  trades,  to  prepare  them  for  busi- 
ness, and  qualify  them  to  live  in  the  world,  so  we  are 
placed  here  to  prepare  us  for  the  grand  business  of  im- 
mortality, the  state  of  our  maturity,  and  to  qualify  us  to 
live  for  ever.  And  is  there  a  heaven  of  the  most  perfect 
happiness,  and  a  hell  of  the  most  exquisite  misery,  just 
before  us,  perhaps  not  a  year  or  even  a  day  distant  from 
us  1  And  is  it  the  great  design,  the  business  and  duty  of 
the  present  state,  to  obtain  the  one  and  escape  the  other  \ 
Then  what  are  we  doing  %  What  is  the  world  doing  all 
around  us  1  Are  they  acting  as  it  becomes  candidates  for 
eternity  1  Are  they  indeed  making  that  the  principal  ob- 
ject of  their  most  zealous  endeavors,  which  is  the  grand 
design,  business  and  duty  of  the  present  state  1  Are  they 
minding  this  at  all  adventures  whatever  else  they  neg- 
lect 1  This  is  what  we  might  expect  from  them  as  rea- 
sonable creatures,  as  creatures  that  love  themselves,  and 
have  a  strong  innate  desire  of  happiness.  This  a  stranger 
to  our  world  might  charitably  presume  concerning  them. 
But,  alas  !  look  upon  the  conduct  of  the  world  around 
vou,  or  look  nearer  home,  and  where  you  are  more  near- 
ly interested,  upon  your  own  conduct,  and  you  will  see 
this  is  not  generally  the  case.  No  ;  instead  of  pursuing 
the  one  thing  needful,  the  world  is  all  in  motion,  all  bus- 
tle and  hurry,  like  ants  upon  a  mole-hill,  about  other  af 


7li?.    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL.  385 

fairs.  They  are  in  a  still  higher  degree  than  officioug 
Martha,  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things.  Now  to 
recall  you  from  this  endless  variety  of  vain  pursuits,  and 
direct  your  endeavors  to  the  proper  object,  I  can  think 
of  no  better  expedient  thou  to  explain  and  inculcate  upon 
you  the  admonition  of  Christ  to  Martha,  and  his  commen- 
dation of  Mary  upon  this  head. 

Martha  was  the  head  of  a  little  family,  probably  a 
widov.',  in  a  village  near  Jerusalem,  called  Bethany.  Her 
brother  and  sister,  Lazarus  and  Mary,  lived  along  with 
her.  And  what  is  remarkable  concerning  this  little  family 
is,  that  they  were  all  lovers  of  Jesus:  and  their  love  was 
not  without  returns  on  his  side  ;  for  we  are  expressly 
told  that  Jesus  loved  Martha^  and  her  sister^  and  Lazarus 
What  a  happy  family  is  this!  but  O  how  rare  in  the 
world  !  This  was  a  convenient  place  of  retirement  to 
Jesus,  after  the  labors  and  fatigues  of  his  ministry  in  the 
city,  and  here  we  often  find  him.  Though  spent  and  ex 
hausted  with  his  public  services,  yet  when  he  gets  into 
the  circle  of  a  few  friends  in  a  private  house,  he  cannot 
be  idle ,  he  still  instructs  them  with  his  hcu\  only  dis 
course ;  and  his  conversation  is  a  constant  sermon 
Mary,  who  w^as  passionately  devout,  and  eager  for  in* 
struction,  would  not  let  such  a  rare  opportunity  slip,  but 
sits  down  at  the  feet  of  this  great  Teacher,  which  was 
the  posture  of  the  Jewish  pupils  before  their  masters,* 
and  eagerly  catches  every  vv^ord  from  his  lips;  from 
which  dropped  knowledge  sweeter  than  honey  from  the 
honey-comb.  Though  she  is  solicitous  for  the  comfort 
of  her  heavenly  guest,  yet  she  makes  no  great  stir  to 
provide  for  him  an  elegant  or  sumptuous  entertainment ; 
for  she  knew  his  happiness  did  not  consist  in  luxurious 
eating  and  drinking:  it  was  his  meat  and  his  drink  to  do 
the  will  of  his  Father  ;  and  as  for  the  sustenance  of  his 
body,  plain  food  was  most  acceptable  to  him.  He  was 
not  willing  that  any  should  lose  their  souls  by  losing 
opportunities  of  instruction,  while  they  were  making 
sumptuous  provision  for  him.  Mary  was  also  so  deeply 
engaged  about  her  salvation,  that  she  was  nobly  careless 
about  the  little  decencies  of  entertainments      The  body 

•  Hence  St.  Paul's  expression,  thai  lie  was  brought  up  at  the  feet  of 
Gamaliel. 

33 


3Sb  rilE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL. 

and  all  its  supports  and  gratifications  appeared  of  very 
small  importance  to  her  when  compared  with  the  immor- 
tal soul.  O  !  if  that  be  but  fed  with  the  words  of  eterna 
life,  it  is  enough.  All  this  she  did  wdth  Christ's  warm 
approbation,  and  therefore  her  conduct  is  an  example 
worthy  of  our  imitation  :  and  if  it  were  imitated,  it  would 
happily  reform  the  pride,  luxury,  excessive  delicacy,  and 
multiform  extravagance  Avhich  have  crept  in  upon  us 
under  the  ingratiating  names  of  politeness,  decency,  hos- 
pitality, good  economy,  and  I  know  not  what.  These 
guilty  superfluities  and  refinements  render  the  life  of 
some  a  course  of  idolatry  to  so  sordid  a  god  as  their  bel- 
lies ;  and  that  of  others,  a  course  of  busy,  laborious,  and 
expensive  trifling.     Bat  to  return  : 

Martha,  though  a  pious  woman,  yet,  like  too  many 
among  us,  was  too  solicitous  about  these  things.  She 
seemed  more  concerned  to  maintain  her  reputation  for 
good  economy  and  hospitality,  thnn  to  improve  in  di- 
vine knowledge  at  every  opportunity  ;  and  to  entertain 
her  guest  rather  as  a  gentleman  than  as  a  divine  teacher 
and  the  Savior  of  souls.  Hence,  instead  of  sitting  at  his 
feet  v.'ith  her  sister,  in  the  posture  of  a  humble  disciple, 
she  was  busy  in  making  preparations  ;  and  her  mind  was 
distracted  with  the  cares  of  her  family.  As  moderate 
labor  and  care  about  earthly  things  is  lawful,  and  even 
a  duty,  persons  are  not  readily  suspicious  or  easily  con- 
vinced of  their  guilty  excesses  in  these  labors  and  cares. 
Hence  Martha  is  so  far  from  condemning  herself  on  this 
account,  that  she  blames  her  devout  sister  for  not  follow- 
ing her  example.  Nay,  she  has  the  confidence  to  com- 
plain to  Christ  himself  of  her  neglect,  and  that  in  lan- 
guage too  that  sounds  somewhat  rude  and  irreverent 
"  Carest  thou  not  that  my  sister  hath  left  nie  to  serve 
alone  \  "  Art  thou  so  partial  as  to  suffer  her  to  devolve 
all  the  trouble  upon  me  while  she  sits  idle  at  thy  feet  1 

Jesus  turns  upon  her  with  just  severity,  and  throws 
the  blame  where  it  should  lie.  Martha,  Martha  I  There 
is  a  vehemence  and  pungency  in  tiic  repetition,  Martha, 
Martha,  thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things. 
"  Thy  worldly  mind  has  many  objects,  and  many  objects 
excite  many  cares  and  troubles,  fruitless  troubles  and 
useless  cares.  Thy  restless  mind  is  scattered  among  a 
thousand  things,  and  tossed  from  one  to  another  with  an 


THE    OKE    THING    .\EEDFUL.  381 

endless  variety  of  anxieties.  But  let  me  collect  my 
thoughts  and  cares  to  one  point,  a  point  where  they 
should  all  terminate  :  one  thing  is  needful  ;  and  there- 
fore, dropping  thy  excessive  care  ahout  many  things, 
make  this  one  thing  the  great  object  of  thy  pursuit.  This 
one  thing  is  what  thy  sister  is  now  attending  to,  while 
thou  art  vainly  careful  about  many  things  ;  and  there- 
fore, instead  of  blaming  her  conduct,  I  must  approve  it. 
She  has  made  the  best  choice,  for  she  hath  chosen  that 
good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her.  After 
all  thy  care  and  labor,  the  things  of  this  vain  world  must 
be  given  up  at  last,  and  lost  for  ever.  But  Mary  hath 
made  a  wiser  choice  ;  the  portion  she  hath  chosen  shall 
be  her's  forever  ;  it  shall  never  be  taken  away  from  her." 

But  what  does  Christ  mean  by  this  one  thing  which 
alone  is  needful  1 

I  answer,  We  may  learn  what  he  meant  by  the  occa- 
sion and  circumstances  of  his  speaking.  He  mentions 
this  one  thing  in  an  admonition  to  Martha  for  excessive 
worldly  cares  and  the  neglect  of  an  opportunity  for  pro- 
moting her  salvation  ;  and  he  expressly  opposes  this  one 
thing  to  the  many  things  wdiich  engrossed  her  care  ;  and 
therefore  it  must  mean  something  different  from  and  su- 
perior to  all  the  pursuits  of  time.  This  one  thing  is  that 
which  Mary  was  so  much  concerned  about  while  atten- 
tively listening  to  his  instruction.  And  \vhat  can  that 
be  but  salvation  as  the  end,  and  holiness  as  the  means,  or  a 
proper  care  of  the  soul  1  This  is  that  which  is  opposite 
and  superior  to  the  many  cares  of  life  ; — this  is  that  which 
Mary  was  attending  to  and  pursuing:  and  I  may  add,  this 
is  that  good  part  which  Mary  had  chosen,  which  should 
never  be  taken  away  from  her  ;  for  that  good  part  which 
Mary  had  chosen  seems  intended  by  Christ  to  explain 
what  he  meant  by  the  one  thing  needful.  Therefore  the 
one  thing  needful  must  mean  the  salvation  of  the  soul, 
and  an  earnest  application  to  the  means  necessary  to  ob- 
tain this  end  above  all  other  things  in  the  world.  To 
be  holy  in  order  to  be  happy  ;  to  pray,  to  hear,  to  medi- 
tate, and  use  all  the  means  of  grace  appointed  to  pro- 
duce or  cherish  holiness  in  us  ;  to  use  these  means  with 
constancy,  frequency,  earnestness,  and  zeal ;  to  use 
them  diligently  whatever  else  be  neglected,  or  to  make 
all  other  things  give  way  in  comparison  of  this ;  this  I 


388  THE    ONE    THL\G    xNEEDFUL* 

apprehend  is  the  one  thing  needful  which  Christ  here  in- 
tends :  this  is  that  which  is  absolutely  necessary,  neces- 
sary above  all  other  things,  and  necessary  for  ever.  The 
end,  namely,  salvation,  will  be  granted  by  all  to  be  ne- 
cessary, and  the  necessity  of  the  end  renders  the  means 
also  necessary.  II  it  be  necessary  you  shall  be  for  ever 
happy,  and  escape  everlasting  misery,  it  is  necessary 
you  should  be  holy  ;  for  you  can  no  more  be  saved 
without  holiness  than  you  can  be  healthy  without  health, 
see  without  light,  or  live  without  food.  And  if  holiness 
be  necessary,  then  the  earnest  use  of  the  means  appoint- 
ed for  the  production  and  improvement  of  holiness  in  us 
must  be  necessary  too  ;  for  you  can  no  more  expect  to 
become  holy  without  the  use  of  these  means,  than  to 
reap  without  sowing,  or  become  truly  virtuous  and  good 
by  chance  or  fatality.  To  be  holy  in  order  to  be  happy, 
and  to  use  all  the  means  of  grace  in  order  to  be  holy,  is 
therefore  the  one  thing  needful. 

But  why  is  this  concern  which   is  so  complex  called 
one  thing  1 

I  answer:  Though  salvation  and  holiness  include  va- 
rious ingredients,  and  though  the  means  of  grace  are 
various,  yet  they  may  be  all  taken  collectively  and  called 
one  thing  ;  that  is,  one  great  business,  one  important 
object  of  pursuit,  in  which  all  our  endeavors  and  aims 
should  centre  and  terminate.  It  is  also  said  to  be  one, 
in  opposition  to  the  many  things  that  are  the  objects  of 
a  worldly  mind.  This  world  owes  its  variety  in  a  great 
measure  to  contradiction  and  inconsistency.  There  is 
no  harmony  or  unity  in  the  earthly  objects  of  men's  pur- 
suits, nor  in  the  means  they  use  to  secure  them.  Riches, 
honors  and  pleasures  generally  clash.  If  a  man  will  be 
rich  he  must  restrain  himself  in  the  pleasures  of  gratify- 
ing his  eager  appetites,  and  perhaps  use  some  mean  ar- 
tifices that  may  stain  his  honor.  If  he  would  be  honor- 
able, he  must  often  be  prodigal  of  his  riches,  and  abstain 
from  some  sordid  pleasures.  If  he  would  have  the  full 
enjoyment  of  sensual  pleasures,  he  must  often  squander 
away  his  riches,  and  injure  his  honor  to  procure  them 
The  lusts  of  men  as  well  as  their  objects,  are  also  vari 
ous  and  contradictory.  Covetousness  and  sensuality, 
pride  and  tranquillity,  envy  and  the  love  of  ease,  and  a 
thousand  jarring  passions,  maintain  a  constant  fight  in 


THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL.  38^ 

the  sinner's  breast.  The  means  for  gratifying  these  lusts 
are  likewise  contrary ;  sometimes  truth,  sometimes 
falsehood,  sometimes  indolence,  sometimes  action  and 
labor  are  necessary.  In  these  things  there  is  no  unity 
of  design,  nor  consistency  of  means  ;  but  the  sinner  is 
properly  distracted,  drawn  this  way  and  that,  tossed 
from  wave  to  wave  ;  and  there  is  no  steadiness  or  uni- 
formity in  his  pursuits.  But  the  work  of  salvation  is 
one,  the  means  and  the  end  correspond,  and  the  means 
are  consistent  one  with  another ;  and  therefore  the 
whole,  though  consisting  of  many  parts,  may  be  said  to 
be  one. 

It  may  also  be  called  the  one  thing  needful,  to  inti- 
mate that  this  is  needful  above  all  other  things.  It  is  a 
common  form  of  speech  to  say  of  that  which  is  neces- 
sary above  all  other  things,  that  it  is  the  one  or  only 
thing  necessary  :  so  we  may  understand  this  passage. 
There  are  what  we  call  the  real  necessaries  of  life  ; 
such  as  food  and  raiment  ;  there  are  also  necessary  call- 
ings and  necessary  labors.  All  these  are  necessary  in  a 
lower  sense  ;  necessary  in  their  proper  place.  But  in 
comparison  of  the  great  work  of  our  salvation,  they  are 
all  unnecessary  ;  if  we  be  but  saved,  we  may  do  very 
well  without  them  all.  This  is  so  necessary,  that  no- 
thing else  deserves  to  be  called  necessary  in  comparison 
of  i?. 

This  shows  you  also,  not  only  w^iy  this  is  called  one 
thing,  but  why  or  in  what  sense  it  is  said  to  be  necessa- 
ry. It  is  of  absolute  and  incomparable  necessity.  There 
is  no  absolute  necessity  to  our  happiness  that  we  should 
be  rich  or  honorable  ;  nay,  there  is  no  absolute  necessi- 
ty to  our  happiness  that  we  should  live  in  this  world  at 
all,  for  we  may  live  infinitely  more  happy  in  another. 
And  if  life  itself  be  not  absolutely  necessary,  then  much 
less  are  food,  or  raiment,  or  health,  or  any  of  those 
things  which  in  a  lower  sense  we  call  the  necessaries 
of  life.  In  comparison  of  this,  they  are  all  needless.  I 
add  farther,  this  one  thing  may  be  said  to  be  necessary, 
because  it  is  necessary  always,  or  for  ever.  The  neces- 
saries of  this  life  we  cannot  want  long,  for  we  must 
soon  remove  into  a  world  where  there  is  no  room  for 
them  ;  but  holiness  and  salvation  we  shall  find  needful 
always  :  needful  under  the  calamities  of  life  j  needful  in 
33* 


390  THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL. 

the  agonies  of  death  :  needful  in  the  world  of  spirits  j 
needful  millions  of  ages  hence  ;  needful  to  all  eternity  j 
and  without  it  Ave  are  eternally  undone.  This  is  a  ne- 
cessity indeed  !  a  necessity,  in  comparison  of  which  all 
other  necessaries  are  but  superfluities. 

I  hope  by  this  short  explication  I  have  cleared  the 
way  through  your  understandings  to  your  hearts,  and  to 
your  hearts  I  would  nov/  address  myself.  However 
solemnly  I  may  speak  upon  this  interesting  subject,  you 
will  have  more  reason  to  blame  me  for  the  deficiency, 
than  for  the  excess  of  my  zeal  and  solemnity.  I  hope  I 
have  entered  this  sacred  place  to-day  with  a  sincere 
desire  to  do  some  service  to  your  immortal  souls  before 
I  leave  it.  And  may  I  not  hope  you  have  come  here 
with  a  desire  to  receive  some  advantage  1  If  not,  you 
may  number  this  seeming  act  of  religion  among  the 
sins  of  your  life  ;  you  have  come  here  to-day  to  sin 
away  these  sacred  hours  in  hypocrisy,  and  a  profane 
mockery  of  the  great  God.  But  if  you  are  willing  to 
receive  any  benefit,  hear  attentively :  hear,  that  your 
souls  may  live, 

My  first  request  to  you  is,*  that  you  would  make  this 
passage  the  test  of  your  characters,  and  seriously  inquire 
whether  you  have  lived  in  the  v/orld  as  those  that  really 
and  practically  believe  that  this  is  the  one  thing  of  abso- 
lute necessity.  Are  not  all  the  joys  of  heaven  and  your 
immortal  souls  worth  the  little  pains  of  seriously  putting 
this  short  question  to  your  consciences  1  Eeview  your 
life,  look  into  your  hearts,  and  inquire,  has  this  one 
thing  lain  more  upon  your  hearts  than  all  other  things 
together  1  Has  this  been,  above  all  other  things,  the 
object  of  your  most  vehement  desires,  your  most  earnest 
endeavors,  and  eager  pursuit '?  I  do  not  ask  whether 
you  have  heard  or  read  that  this  one  thing  is  necessary, 
or  whether  you  have  sometimes  talked  about  it.  I  do 
not  ask  whether  you  have  paid  to  God  the  compliment 
of  appearing  in  his  house  once  a  week,  or  of  performing 
him  a  little  lip-service  morning  and  evening  in  your 
families,  or  in  your  closets,  after  you  have  served  your- 

*  Many  of  llip  followiiitr  sentiments,  ns  to  the  substance  of  them,  are 
borrowed  from  Mr.  Baxter's  excellent  discourse,  entitled  a  sai>t  or  a 
BRUTE  ;  and  I  know  no  bettrr  pattern  for  a  minister  to  follow  in  his  ad- 
dress to  sinners,  than  thai  flaming  and  successful  preacher. 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  391 

selves  and  the  world  all  the  rest  of  your  time,  without 
one  affectionate  thought  of  God.  Nor  do  I  inquire 
whether  in  a  pang  of  horror  after  the  commission  of 
some  gross  sin,  you  have  tried  to  make  your  conscience 
easy  by  a  few  prayers  and  tears,  of  which  you  form  an 
opiate  to  cast  you  ao^ain  into  a  dead  sleep  in  sm  ;  I  do 
not  ask  whether  you  liave  performed  many  actions  that 
are  materially  good,  and  abstained  from  many  sins.  All 
this  you  may  have  done,  and  yet  have  neglected  the  one 
thing  needful  all  your  lives. 

But  I  ask  you,  whether  this  one  thing  needful  has 
been  habitually  uppermost  in  your  hearts,  the  favorite 
object  of  your  desires,  the  prize  of  your  most  vigorous 
endeavors,  the  supreme  happiness  of  your  souls,  and  the 
principal  object  of  your  concern  above  all  things  in  the 
world  \  Sirs,  you  may  now  hear  this  question  witli 
stupid  unconcern  and  indifferency  ;  but  I  must  tell  you, 
you  will  find,  another  day,  how  much  depends  upon  it. 
In  that  day  it  will  be  found,  that  the  main  difference 
between  true  Christians  and  the  various  classes  of  sin- 
ners is  this  : — God,  Christ,  holiness,  and  the  concerns  of 
eternity,  are  habitually  uppermost  in  the  hearts  of  the 
former ;  but,  to  the  latter,  they  are  generally  but  things 
by  the  by ;  and  the  world  engrosses  the  vigor  of  their 
souls,  and  is  the  principal  concern  of  their  lives.  To 
serve  God,  to  obtain  his  favor,  and  to  be  happy  for  ever 
in  his  love,  is  the  main  business  of  the  saint,  to  which 
all  the  concerns  of  the  world  and  the  flesh  must  give 
way  ;  but  to  live  in  ease,  in  reputation,  in  pleasure,  or 
riches,  or  to  gratify  himself  in  the  pursuit  and  enjoy- 
ment of  some  created  good,  this  is  the  main  concern  of 
the  sinner.  The  one  has  made  a  hearty  resignation  of 
himself,  and  all  that  he  is  and  has,  to  God,  through 
Jesus  Christ :  he  serves  him  with  the  best,  and  thinks 
nothing  too  good  for  him.  But  the  other  has  his  ex- 
ceptions and  reserves :  he  will  serve  God  willingly, 
provided  it  may  consist  with  his  ease,  and  pleasure,  and 
temporal  interest ;  he  will  serve  God  with  a  bended 
knee,  and  the  external  forms  of  devotion ;  but,  with  the 
vigor  of  his  spirit,  he  serves  the  world  and  his  flesh. 
This  is  the  grand  difference  between  a  true  Christian 
and  the  various  forms  of  half-Christians  and  hypocrites 
And  certainly  this  is  a  difference  that  may  be  di     v  n<';\ 


392  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

The  tenor  of  a  man'  s  practice,  and  the  ohject  of  his 
love,  especially  of  his  highest  love  and  practical  esteem, 
must  certainly  be  very  distinguishable  from  a  thing  by 
the  by,  and  from  the  object  of  a  languid  passion,  or 
mere  speculation.  Therefore,  if  you  make  but  an  im- 
partial trial,  you  have  reason  to  hope  you  will  make  a 
just  discovery  of  your  true  character  ;  or  if  you  cannot 
make  the  discovery  yourselves,  call  in  the  assistance  of 
others.  Ask  not  your  worldly  and  sensual  neighbors, 
for  they  are  but  poor  judges,  and  they  will  flatter  you  in 
self-defence ;  but  ask  your  pious  friends  whether  you 
have  spoke  and  acted  like  persons  that  practically  made 
this  the  one  thing  needful.  They  can  tell  you  what 
subject  you  talked  most  seriously  about,  what  pursuit 
seemed  to  lie  most  upon  your  hearts,  and  chiefly  to  ex- 
haust your  activity.  Brethren,  I  beseech  you,  by  one 
means  or  other,  to  bring  this  matter  to  an  issue,  and 
let  it  hang  in  suspense  no  longer.  Why  are  you  so  in- 
difl^erent  how  this  matter  stands  with  you  1  Is  it  because 
you  imagine  you  may  be  true  Christians,  and  obtain 
salvation,  however  this  matter  be  with  you  1  But  be 
not  deceived :  no  man  can  serve  two  masters,  whose 
commands  are  contrary ;  and  ye  cannot  serve  God  and 
mammon^  with  a  service  equally  devoted  to  both.  If 
any  man  love  the  world^  with  supreme  affection,  the  love 
of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.  1  John  ii.  15.  Be  not  de- 
ceived^ God  is  not  mocked ;  whatsoever  a  man  soweth^  that 
shall  he  reap  ;  if  you  sow  to  the  flesh,  of  the  flesh  you 
shall  reap  corruption  :  A  miserable  harvest  indeed  !  But 
if  you  sow  to  the  Spirit,  you  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  ever- 
lasting life.  Gal.  vi.  7,  8.  Therefore  you  may  be  sure 
that  if  yov  live  after  the  flesh,  you  shall  die  ;  and  that  you 
can  never  enjoy  the  one  thing  needful  unless  you  mind 
and  pursue  it  above  all  other  things. 

But  I  shall  not  urge  you  any  farther  to  try  yourselves 
by  this  test.  1  take  it  for  granted  the  consciences  of 
some  of  you  have  determined  the  matter,  and  that  you 
are  plainly  convicted  of  having  hitherto  neglected  the 
one  thing  needful.  Allow  me  then  honestly  to  expose 
your  conduct  in  its  proper  colors,  and  tell  you  what  you 
have  been  doing  while  you  were  busy  about  other  things, 
and  neglecting  this  one  thing  needful. 

1.     However  well  you  have  improved  your  time  for 


THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL.  393 

Other  purposes,  you  have  lost  it  all,  unless  you  have  im- 
proved it  in  securing  the  one  thing  needful.  The  proper 
notion  of  time  is,  that  it  is  a  space  for  repentance. 
Time  is  given  us  to  prepare  for  eternity.  If  this  is  done, 
we  have  lived  long  enough,  and  the  great  end  of  time 
and  life  is  answered,  v*hatever  else  be  undone.  But  if 
this  be  undone,  you  have  lived  in  vain,  and  all  your  time 
is  lost,  however  busily  and  successfully  you  have  pur- 
sued other  things.  Though  you  have  studied  yourselves 
pale,  to  furnish  your  minds  with  knowledge ;  though 
you  have  spent  the  night  and  the  day  in  heaping  up 
riches,  or  climbing  up  to  the  pinacle  of  honor,  and  not  lost 
an  hour  that  might  be  turned  to  your  advantage,  yet  you 
have  been  most  wretchedly  fooling  away  your  time,  and 
lost  it  all,  if  you  have  not  laid  it  out  in  securing  the  one 
thing  needful.  And,  believe  me,  time  is  a  precious 
thing.  So  it  will  appear  in  a  dying  hour,  or  in  the  eter- 
nal world,  to  the  greatest  spendthrift  among  you.  Then, 
O  for  a  year,  or  even  a  week,  or  a  day,  to  secure  that 
one  thing  which  you  are  now  neglecting  !  And  will  you 
now  waste  your  time,  while  you  enjoy  it!  Shall  so 
precious  a  blessing  be  lost !  By  this  calculation,  how 
many  days,  how  many  years,  have  you  lost  for  ever  % 
For  is  not  that  lost  which  is  spent  in  crossing  the  end 
for  which  it  was  given  you  ]  Time  was  given  you  to 
secure  an  eternitjr  of  happiness,  but  you  have  spent  it 
m  adding  sin  to  sin,  and  consequently  in  treasuring  up 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath.  And  is  not  your  time 
then  a  thousand  times  worse  than  lost  1  Let  me  tell 
you,  if  you  continue  in  this  course  to  the  end,  you  will 
wish  a  thousand  times,  either  that  you  had  never  had 
one  hour's  time  given  you,  or  that  you  had  made  a  bet- 
ter use  of  it. 

2.  Whatever  else  you  have  been  doing,  you  have 
lost  your  labor  with  your  time,  if  you  have  not  labored 
above  all  things  for  this  one  thing  needful.  No  doubt 
you  have  been  busy  about  something  all  your  hfe  ;  but 
you  might  as  well  have  been  idle  ;  you  have  been  busy 
in  doing  nothing.  You  have  perhaps  toiled  through 
many  anxious  and  laborious  days,  and  your  nights  have 
shared  in  the  anxieties  and  labors  of  your  days.  But  if 
you  have  not  labored  for  the  one  thing  necessary,  all 
your  labor  and  all  the  fruits  of  it  are  lost.     Indeed  God 


S94  IHE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL. 

may  bai'e  made  use  of  you  for  the  good  of  his  church, 
or  of  your  country,  as  we  make  use  of  thorns  and  briers 
to  stop  a  breach,  or  of  useless  wood  for  firing  to  warm 
our  families  ;  but  as  to  any  lasting  and  solid  advantage 
to  yourselves,  all  your  labor  has  been  lost. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Not  only  your  secular  labor  is 
lost,  but  all  your  toil  and  pains,  if  you  have  used  any  in 
the  duties  of  religion,  they  are  lost  likewise.  Your 
reading,  hearing,  praying,  and  communicating  ;  all  your 
serious  thoughts  of  death  and  eternity,  all  your  struggles 
with  particular  lusts  and  temptations,  all  the  kind  offices 
you  have  done  to  mankind,  all  are  lost,  since  you  have 
performed  them  by  halves  with  a  lukewarm  heart,  and 
have  not  made  the  one  thing  needful  your  great  business 
and  pursuit.  All  these  things  will  not  save  you  ;  and 
what  is  that  religion  good  for  which  will  not  save  your 
souls  %  What  do  those  religious  endeavors  avail  which 
will  suffer  you  to  fall  into  hell  after  all  1  Certainly  such 
rehgion  is  vam. 

And  now,  my  hearers,  do  you  believe  this,  or  do  you 
not  1  If  you  do,  will  you,  dare  you  still  go  on  in  the 
same  course  1  If  you  do  not  believe  it,  let  me  reason 
the  matter  Avith  you  a  little.  You  will  not  believe  that 
all  the  labor  and  pains  you  have  taken  all  your  life  have 
been  quite  lost :  no,  you  now  enjoy  the  fruits  of  them. 
But  show  me  now,  if  you  can,  what  you  have  gotten  by 
all  that  stir  you  have  made,  that  will  follow  one  step 
beyond  the  grave,  or  that  you  can  call  your  own  to- 
morrow 1  Where  is  that  sure  immortal  acquisition  that 
you  can  carry  with  you  into  the  eternal  world  1  Were 
you  to  die  this  hour,  would  it  afford  you  any  pleasure 
to  reflect  that  you  have  lived  a  merry  life,  and  had  a 
satiety  of  sensual  pleasures,  or  that  you  have  labored 
for  riches  and  honors,  and  perhaps  acquired  them  1 
Will  this  reflection  afford  you  pleasure  or  pain  1  Will 
this  abate  tlie  agony  of  eternal  pain,  or  make  up  for  the 
loss  of  heaven,  which  you  wilfully  incurred  by  an  over- 
eager  pursuit  of  these  perishing  vanities  1 

Do  you  not  see  the  extravagant  folly,  the  distracted 
frenzy  of  such  a  conduct  1  Alas !  while  you  are  neglect- 
ing the  one  thing  needful,  what  are  you  doing  but  spend- 
ing your  time  and  labor  in  laborious  idleness,  honorably 
debasing  yourselves,  delightfully  tormenting  yourselves, 


•lI.E    0\E    THING    WEEDFUL.  395 

wisely  befooling-  yourselves,  and  frugally  impoverishing 
and  ruining  yourselves  for  everl  A  child  or  an  idiot 
riding  upon  a  staff,  building  their  mimic  houses,  or  play- 
ing with  a  feather,  are  not  so  foolish  as  you  in  your 
conduct,  while  you  are  so  seriously  pursuing  the  affairs 
of  time,  and  neglecting  those  of  eternity.     But, 

3.  This  is  not  all :  all  your  labor  and  pains  have  not 
only  been  lost  Avhile  you  have  neglected  this  one  thing, 
but  you  have  taken  pains  to  ruin  yourselves,  and  labored 
hard  all  your  lives  for  your  own  destruction.  To  this 
you  will  immediately  answer,  "  God  forbid  that  we 
should  do  any  thing  to  hurt  ourselves  ;  we  were  far  from 
having  any  such  design."  But  the  question  is  not,  what 
was  your  design]  but,  what  is  the  unavoidable  conse- 
quence of  your  conduct,  according  to  the  nature  of 
things,  and  the  unchangeable  constitution  of  heaven  1 
Whatever  you  design  in  going  on  in  sin,  the  wages  of  sin 
is  death,  eternal  death.  You  may  indulge  the  carnal 
mind,  and  walk  after  the  flesh,  and  yet  hope  no  bad  con- 
sequence w411  follow :  but  God  has  told  you  that  to  be 
carnally  minded  is  death,  and  that  if  you  live  after  the 
flesh  you  shall  die.  The  robber  on  the  highway  has  no 
design  to  be  hanged  ;  but  this  does  not  render  him  a  jot 
safer.  Therefore,  design  what  you  will,  it  is  certain 
you  are  positively  destroying  yourselves  while  your  la- 
bors about  other  things  hinder  you  from  pursuing  the 
one  thing  needful.  And  does  not  this  thought  shock 
you,  that  you  should  be  acting  the  part  of  enemies 
against  yourselves,  the  most  pernicious  and  deadly  ene- 
mies to  yourselves  in  the  whole  universe  l  No  enemy 
in  the  whole  universe  could  do  you  that  injury  without 
your  consent  which  you  are  doing  to  yourselves.  To 
tempt  you  to  sii.  i.^  all  the  devil  can  do ;  but  the  tempta- 
tion alone  can  do  you  no  injury  ;  it  is  consenting  to  it 
that  ruins  you  ;  and  this  consent  is  your  own  voluntary 
act.  All  tiie  devils  in  hell  could  not  force  you  to  sin 
without  your  consent,  and  therefore  all  the  devils  in  hell 
do  not  injure  you  as  you  do  yourselves.  God  has  not 
given  them  so  much  power  over  you  as  he  has  given 
you  over  yourselves;  and  this  power  you  abuse  to  your 
own  destruction. 

O !  in  what  a  distracted  state  is  the  world  of  the  un- 
godly !     If  any  other  men  be  their  enemy,  how  do  they 


396  THE    ONE    THING    ISEEDfUL. 

resent  it !  But  they  are  their  own  worst  enemies,  and 
yet  never  fall  out  w4th  themselves.  If  another  occasion 
them  a  disappointment  in  their  pursuits,  defraud  them 
of  an  expected  good,  or  lay  schemes  to  make  them  mis- 
erable, what  sullen  grudge,  what  keen  revenge,  what 
flaming  resentments  immediately  rise  in  their  breasts 
against  him !  And  yet  they  are  all  their  lives  disinher- 
iting themselves  of  the  heavenly  inheritance,  laying  a 
train  to  blow  up  all  their  own  hopes,  and  heaping  a 
mountain  of  guilt  upon  themselves  to  sink  them  into  the 
bottomless  pit :  and  all  this  while  they  think  they  are 
the  best  friends  to  themselves,  and  consulting  their  own 
interest.  As  for  the  devil,  the  common  enemy  of  man- 
kind, they  abhor  him,  and  bless  themselves  from  him ; 
but  they  are  w^orse  to  themselves  than  devils,  and  yet 
never  fall  out  with  themselves  for  it. 

This,  sinners,  may  seem  a  harsh  representation  of 
your  conduct,  but,  alas !  it  is  true.  And  if  it  be  so 
shocking  to  you  to  hear  it,  what  must  it  be  to  be  guilty 
of  it !  And,  0  !  think  what  must  be  the  consequences 
of  such  a  conduct,  such  unnatural  suicide  ! 

4.  If  you  have  hitherto  neglected  the  one  thing  need- 
ful, you  have  unmanned  yourselves,  acted  beneath  and 
contrary  to  your  own  reason,  and  in  plain  terms  be- 
haved as  if  you  had  been  out  of  your  senses.  If  you 
have  the  use  of  your  reason,  it  must  certainly  tell  you 
for  what  it  was  given  to  you.  And  I  beseech  you  tell 
me  what  was  it  given  to  you  for  but  to  serve  the  God 
that  made  you,  to  secure  his  favor,  to  prepare  for  your 
eternal  state,  and  to  enjoy  the  supreme  good  as  your 
portion '{  Can  you  once  think  your  reason,  that  divinoe 
particula  aurcB,  was  given  you  for  such  low  purposes  as 
the  contrivances,  labor,  and  pursuits  of  this  vain  life,  and 
to  make  you  a  more  ingenious  sort  of  brutes  \  He  was 
master  of  an  unusual  share  of  reason  who  said,  "  There 
is  very  little  difference  between  having  reason  and  having 
none,  if  we  had  nothing  to  do  with  it  but  cunningly  to 
lay  up  for  our  food,  and  make  provision  for  this  corrupt- 
ible flesh,  and  had  not  another  life  to  mind."  There- 
fore I  may  safely  affirm  that  you  have  cast  away  your 
reason,  and  acted  as  if  you  were  out  of  your  wits,  if 
you  have  not  employed  your  rational  powers  in  the  pur- 
suit of  the  one  thing  needful.     Where  was  your  reason 


THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL.  397 

when  your  dying  flesh  was  preferred  to  your  immortal 
spirits]  Was  reason  your  guide  when  you  chose  the 
trash  of  this  perishing  world,  and  sought  it  more  than 
the  favor  of  God  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven  1  Can  you 
pretend  to  common  sense,  when  you  might  have  had 
the  pardon  of  sin,  sanctifying  grace,  and  a  title  to  heaven 
secured  to  you  ere  now  ?  But  you  have  neglected  all, 
and  instead  of  having  a  sure  title  to  heaven,  or  beino- 
prepared  for  it,  you  are  fitted  for  destruction,  and  noth- 
ing else  ;  and  are  only  awaiting  for  a  fever  or  a  flux,  or 
some  other  executioner  of  divine  vengeance,  to  cut  the 
thread  of  life,  and  let  you  sink  to  hell  by  your  own 
weight.  Thither  you  gravitate  under  the  load  of  sin  as 
naturally  as  a  stone  to  the  centre ;  and  you  need  no 
other  weight  to  sink  you  down.  What  have  you  done 
all  your  life  to  make  a  wise  man  think  you  truly  reason- 
able 1  Is  that  your  reason,  to  be  wise  to  do  evil,  while 
to  do  good  you  have  no  knowledge  j  or  to  be  ingenious 
and  active  about  the  trifles  of  time,  while  you  neglect 
that  great  work  for  which  you  were  created  and  re- 
deemed I  Can  you  be  wise  and  yet  not  consider  your 
latter  endl  Nay,  can  you  pretend  to  so  much  as  com- 
mon sense,  while  you  sell  your  eternal  salvation  for  the 
sordid  pleasures  of  a  few  flying  years  1  Have  you  com- 
mon sense,  when  you  will  not  keep  yourselves  out  of 
everlasting  fire  \  What  can  a  madman  do  worse  than 
wilfully  destroy  himself  1  And  this  you  are  doing  every 
day. 

And  yet  these  very  persons  are  proud  of  their  mad- 
ness, and  are  apt  to  fling  the  charge  of  folly  upon  others, 
especially  if  they  observe  some  poor  weak  creatures, 
though  it  be  but  one  in  five  hundred,  fall  into  melan- 
choly, or  lose  their  reason  for  a  time,  while  they  are 
groaning  under  a  sense  of  sin,  and  anxious  about  their 
eternal  state  ;  then  what  a  clamor  against  religion  and 
preciseness,  as  the  ready  way  to  make  people  run  mad! 
then  they  even  dare  to  publish  their  resolution  that  they 
will  not  read  and  pore  so  much  upon  these  things,  lest 
it  should  drive  them  out  of  their  senses.  O  miserable 
mortals  !  is  it  possible  they  should  be  more  dangerously 
mad  than  they  are  already  1  Do  you  lay  out  your  rea- 
son, your  strength,  and  time  in  pursuing  vain  shadows, 
and  in  feeding  a  mortal  body  for  the  grave,  while  the 
34 


398  THE    ONE    THir^G    NEEDFUL. 

important  realities  of  the  eternal  world,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  your  immortal  souls  are  forgotten  or  neglect- 
ed 1  Do  you  sell  your  Savior  with  Judas  for  a  little 
money,  and  change  your  part  in  God  and  heaven  for  the 
sordid  pleasures  of  sin,  which  are  hut  for  a  season  1  and 
are  you  afraid  of  seriously  reflecting  upon  this  course, 
that  you  may  reform  it,  for  fear  such  thoughts  should 
make  you  mad  1  What  greater  madness  than  this  can 
you  fear  %  Will  you  run  from  God,  from  Christ,  from 
mercy,  from  the  saints,  from  heaven  itself,  for  fear  of 
being  mad  1  Alas !  you  are  mad  in  the  worst  sense 
already.  Will  you  run  to  hell  to  prove  yourselves  in 
your  senses  1  He  was  a  wise  and  good  man  who  said, 
''  Though  the  loss  of  a  man's  understanding  is  a  griev- 
ous afiiiction,  and  such  as  I  hope  God  will  never  lay 
upon  me,  yet  I  had  a  thousand  times  rather  go  distract- 
ed to  Bedlam  with  the  excessive  care  about  my  salva- 
tion, than  to  be  one  of  you  that  cast  av/ay  the  care  of 
your  salvation  for  fear  of  being  distracted,  and  will  go 
among  the  infernal  Bedlams  into  hell  for  fear  of  being 
mad."  Distraction  in  itself  is  not  a  moral  evil,  but  a 
physical,  like  those  disorders  of  the  body  from  which  it 
often  proceeds,  and  therefore  is  no  object  for  punish- 
ment ;  and  had  you  no  capacity  of  understanding  you 
would  have  a  cloak  for  your  sin  ;  but  your  madness  is 
your  crime,  because  it  is  voluntary,  and  therefore  you 
must  give  an  account  for  it  to  the  Supreme  Judge. 

It  would  be  easy  to  offer  many  more  considerations 
to  expose  the  absurdity  and  danger  of  your  conduct  in 
neglecting  the  one  thing  necessary  ;  but  these  must  suf- 
fice for  the  present  hour.  And  I  only  desire  you  to 
consider  farther,  if  this  be  a  just  view  of  the  conduct  of 
such  as  are  guilty  of  this  neglect,  in  what  a  miserable, 
oitiable  condition  is  the  world  in  general.  I  have  so 
often  tried  the  utmost  energy  of  my  words  upon  you 
(vith  so  little  success  as  to  many,  that  I  am  quite  gro\ATi 
(veary  of  them.  Allow  me  therefore  for  once  to  borrow 
Aie  more  striking  and  pungent  words  of  one  now  in 
Aeaven  ;  of  one  who  had  more  success  than  almost  any 
jf  his  contemporaries  or  successors  in  the  important 
\vork  of  "  converting  sinners  from  the  error  of  their  way 
and  saving  souls  from  death  :"  I  mean  that  incomparable 
preacher,  Mr.  Baxter,  who   sowed  an  immortal  seed  in 


THE    ONE    TIILNG    NEEDFUL. 


399 


his  parish  of  Kidderminster,  which  grows  and  brings 
forth  fruit  to  this  day.  His  words  have,  through  the  di- 
vine blessing,  been  irresistible  to  thousands  5  and  0  that 
such  of  you,  my  dear  hearers,  whose  hearts  may  have 
been  proof  against  mine,  may  not  be  so  against  his 
also! 

"Look  upon  this  text  of  scripture,"  says  he,  "and 
look  also  upon  the  course  of  the  earth,  and  consider  of 
the  disagreement  ;  and  whether  it  be  not  still  as  before 
the  flood,  that  "  all  the  imaginations  of  man's  heart  are 
evil  continually."  Gen.  vi.  5.  Were  it  possible  for  a 
man  to  see  the  affections  and  motions  of  all  the  world  at 
once,  as  God  seeth  them,  what  a  pitiful  sight  it  would 
be  !  What  a  stir  do  they  make,  alas,  poor  souls  !  for 
they  know  not  what !  while  they  forget,  or  slight,  or 
hate  the  one  thing  needful.  What  a  heap  of  gadding 
ants  should  we  see,  that  do  nothing  but  gather  sticks 
and  straws!  Look  among  persons  of  every  rank,  in  city 
and  country,  and  look  into  families  about  you,  and  see 
what  trade  it  is  they  are  most  busily  driving  on,  wheth- 
er it  be  for  heaven  or  earth  !  And  whether  you  can  dis- 
cern by  their  care  and  labors  that  they  understand  what 
is  the  one  thing  necessary  !  They  are  as  busy  as  bees  ; 
but  not  for  honey,  but  in  spinning  such  a  spider's  web 
as  the  besom  of  death  will  presently  sweep  down.  Job 
viii.  14.  They  labor  hard,  but  for  what  1  For  the  food 
that  perisheth^  but  not  for  that  which  endureth  to  everlast- 
ing life.  John  vi.  27.  They  are  diligent  seekers  ;  but 
for  what  %  Not  first  for  God,  his  kingdom  and  riglit- 
eousness,  but  for  that  which  they  might  have  had  as  an 
addition  to  their  blessedness.  Matt.  vi.  33.  They  are 
still  doing;  what  are  they  doing  1  Even  undoing 
themselves  by  running  away  from  God,  to  hunt  after 
the  perishing  pleasures  of  the  world.  Instead  of  provi- 
ding for  the  life  to  come,  they  are  making  provisioji  for 
the  flesh  to  fulfil  its  lusts.  Rom.  xiii.  14.  Some  of  them 
hear  the  word  of  God,  but  presently  choke  it  l>y  the  dc- 
ceitfulness  of  riches,  and  the  cares  of  this  life  Luke  viii. 
14.  They  arc  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things; 
but  the  one  thing  that  should  be  all  to  them  is  cast  by 
as  if  it  were  nothing.  Providing  for  the  flesh  and  mind- 
mg  the  world  is  the  employment  of  their  lives.  They 
labor  with  a  canine  appetite  for   their  trash  ;  but  to  ho- 


400  THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL. 

iiness  they  have  no  appetite,  and  are  worse  than  indif- 
ferent to  the  things  that  are  indeed  desirable.  They 
have  no  covetousness  for  the  things  which  they  are 
commanded  earnestly  to  covet.  1  Cor.  xii.  31.  They  have 
so  little  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  that  a  very 
little  or  none  will  satisfy  them.  Here  they  are  pleading 
always  for  moderation,  and  against  too  much,  and  too 
earnest,  and  too  long ;  and  all  is  too  much  with  them 
that  is  above  stark  naught,  or  dead  hypocrisy ;  and  all 
is  too  earnest  and  too  long  that  would  make  religion 
seem  a  business,  or  engage  them  to  seem  serious  in  their 
own  profession,  or  put  them  past  jest  in  the  worship  of 
God  and  the  matters  of  their  salvation.  Let  but  their 
children  or  servants  neglect  their  worldly  business, 
(which  I  confess  they  should  not  do,)  and  they  shall  hear 
of  it  with  both  their  ears  ;  but  if  they  sin  against  God,  or 
neglect  his  word  or  worship,  they  shall  meet  with  more 
patience  than  Eli's  son  did  :  a  cold  reproof  is  usually  the 
most ;  and  it  is  well  if  they  be  not  encouraged  in  their 
sin  ;  it  is  well  if  a  child  or  servant  that  beigns  to  be  seri- 
ous for  salvation  be  not  rebuked,  derided,  and  hindered  by 
them.  If  on  their  days  of  labor  they  oversleep  themselves, 
they  shall  be  sure  to  be  called  up  to  work,  (and  good 
reason,)  but  when  do  they  call  them  up  to  prayer  1  when 
do  they  urge  them  to  consider  or  converse  upon  the 
things  that  concern  their  everlasting  life  \  The  Lord's 
own  day,  which  is  appointed  to  be  set  apart  for  matters 
of  this  nature,  is  wasted  in  idleness  or  worldly  talk 
Come  at  any  time  into  their  company  and  you  may  talk 
enough,  and  too  much  of  news,  or  other  men's  matters, 
of  their  worldly  business,  sports,  and  pleasures,  but 
about  God  and  their  salvation  they  have  so  little  to  say, 
and  that  so  heartlessly,  and  by-the-by,  as  if  they  were 
things  that  belonged  not  to  their  care  and  duty,  and  no 
whit  concerned  them.  Talk  with  them  about  the  reno- 
vation of  the  soul,  the  nature  of  holiness,  and  the  life 
to  come,  and  you  will  find  them  almost  as  dumb  as  a 
fish.  The  most  understand  not  matters  of  this  nature, 
nor  much  desire  or  care  to  understand  them.  If  one 
would  teach  them  personally,  they  are  too  old  to  be  cat- 
echised or  to  learn,  though  not  too  old  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  matters  they  were  made  for  and  preserved  for  in  the 
world.     They  are  too  wise  to  learn  to  be  wise,  and  too 


THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL.  4-01 

good  to  be  taught  how  to  be  good,  though  not  too  wise 
to  follow  the  seducements  of  the  devil  and  the  world,  nor 
too  good  to  be  the  slaves  of  Satan  and  the  despisers  and 
enemies  of  goodness.  If  they  do  anything  which  they 
call  serving  God,  it  is  some  cold  and  heartless  use  of 
words  to  make  themselves  believe  that  for  all  their  sins 
they  shall  be  saved  ;  so  that  God  will  call  that  a  serving 
their  sins  and  abominations,  which  they  will  call  a  serv- 
ing of  God.  Some  of  them  will  confess  that  holiness  is 
good,  but  they  hope  God  will  be  merciful  to  them  with- 
out it  ;  and  some  do  so  hate  it,  that  it  is  a  displeasing 
irksome  thing  to  them  to  hear  any  serious  discourse  of 
holiness  ;  and  they  detest  and  deride  those  as  fanatical, 
troublesome  precisians  that  diligently  seek  the  one  thing 
necessary  :  so  that  if  the  belief  of  the  most  may  be  judg- 
ed by  their  practices,  we  may  confidently  say,  that  they 
do  not  practically  believe  that  ever  they  should  be 
brought  to  judgment,  or  that  there  is  any  heaven  or  hell 
to  be  expected  5  and  that  their  confession  of  the  truth 
of  the  scriptures  and  the  articles  of  the  Christian  faith 
are  no  proofs  that  they  heartily  take  them  to  be  true. 
Who  can  be  such  a  stranger  to  the  Avorld  as  not  to  see 
that  this  is  the  case  of  the  greatest  part  of  men  ]  And, 
which  is  worst  of  all,  they  go  on  in  this  course  against 
all  that  can  be  said  to  them,  and  will  give  no  impartial, 
considerate  hearing  to  the  truth,  which  would  recover 
them  to  their  wits,  but  live  as  if  it  would  be  a  felicity  to 
them  in  hell  to  think  that  they  came  thither  by  Avilful 
resolution,  and  in  despite  of  the  remedy." 

This,  sinners,  is  a  true  representation  of  your  case, 
drawn  by  one  that  well  knew  it  and  lamented  it.  And 
what  do  you  now  think  of  it  yourselves  \  What  do  you 
think  will  be  the  consequence  of  such  a  course  1  Is  it 
safe  to  persist  in  it  1  or  shall  1  be  so  happy  as  to  bring 
you  to  a  stand  1  Will  you  still  go  on,  troubling  your- 
selves with  many  things  1  or  will  you  resolve  for  the 
future  to  mind  the  one  thing  needful  above  all  1  I  be- 
seech you  to  come  to  some  resolution.  Time  is  on  the 
wing,  and  does  not  allow  you  to  hesitate  in  so  plain 
and  important  an  affair.  Do  you  need  any  farther  ex- 
citements \  Then  I  shall  try  the  force  of  one  conside- 
ration more  contained  in  my  text,  and  that  is  Necessity. 

Remember  necessity,  the  most  pressing,  absolute  ne- 
34* 


•i02  -THE    ONE    THING    NEEDFUL. 

cessity,  enforces  this  care  upon  you.  One  thing  is  need- 
ful, absolutely  needful,  and  needful  above  all  other  things. 
This,  one  would  think,  is  such  an  argument  as  cannot  but 
prevail.  What  exploits  has  necessity  performed  in  the 
world  !  What  arts  has  it  discovered  as  the  mother  of 
invention  !  what  labors,  what  fatigues,  what  sufferings 
has  it  undergone  !  What  dangers  has  it  encountered  ! 
What  difficulties  has  it  overcome  !  Necessity  is  a  p.lca 
which  you  think  will  warrant  you  to  do  anything  and 
excuse  anything.  Reasoning  against  necessity  is  but 
reasoning  against  a  hurricane  ;  it  bears  all  before  it. 
To  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life,  as  they  are  called,  how 
much  will  men  do  and  suffer  !  Nay,  with  what  hard- 
ships and  perils  will  they  not  conflict  for  things  that  they 
imagine  necessary,  not  to  their  life  but  to  their  ease, 
their  honor,  or  pleasure  !  But  what  is  this  necessity 
when  compared  to  that  which  I  am  now  urging  upon 
you  1  In  comparison  of  this,  the  most  necessary  of 
those  things  are  but  superfluities  ;  for  if  your  ease,  or 
honor,  or  pleasure,  or  even  your  life  in  this  world  be  not 
absolutely  necessary,  as  they  cannot  be  to  the  heirs  of 
immortality,  then  certainly  those  things  which  you  ima- 
gine necessary  to  your  ease,  your  honor,  your  pleasure, 
or  mortal  life,  are  still  less  necessary.  But  O  !  to  escape 
everlasting  misery,  and  to  secure  everlasting  salvation, 
this  is  the  grand  necessity  !  This  will  appear  necessary 
in  every  point  of  your  immortal  duration  ;  necessary 
when  you  have  done  with  this  world  for  ever,  and  must 
leave  all  its  cares,  enjoyments,  and  pursuits  behind  you. 
And  shall  not  this  grand  necessity  prevail  upon  you  to 
work  out  your  salvation,  and  make  that  your  great  busi- 
ness, when  a  far  less  necessity,  a  necessity  that  will  last 
but  a  few  years  at  most,  set  you  and  the  world  around 
you  upon  such  hard  labors  and  eager  pursuits  for  perish- 
ing vanities  1  All  the  necessity  in  the  world  is  nothing 
in  comparison  of  that  which  lies  upon  you  to  work  out 
your  salvation  ;  and  shall  this  have  no  weight  1  If  you 
do  not  labor  or  contrive  for  the  bread  that  perisheth,  you 
must  beg  or  starve  ;  but  if  you  will  not  labor  for  the  bread 
that  endureth  unto  everlasting  life,  you  must  burn  in  hell 
for  ever.  You  must  lie  in  prison  if  your  debts  with  men 
be  not  paid  ;  but,  O  !  what  is  it  to  the  prison  of  hell, 
where  you  must  be  confined  for  ever  if  your  debts  to  the 


THE  ONE  THING  NEEDFUL.  403 

justice  of  God  be  not   remitted,  and  you  do  not  obtain 
an  interest  in  the  righteousness   of  Christ,  which  alone 
can  make  satisfaction  for  them  !  You  must  suffer  hunger 
and  nakedness  unless  you  take  care  to  provide  food  and 
raiment  ;  but  you  must  suffer  eteternai  banishment  from 
God  and  all  the  joys  of  his  presence,  if  you  do  not  la- 
bor to  secure  the  one  thing  needful.     Without  the  riches 
of  this  world  you  may  be  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the 
heavenly  inheritance.     Without  earthly   pleasures  you 
may  have  joy  unspeakable   and  full  of  glory  in  the  love 
of  God,  and  the  expectation  of  the  kingdom  reserved  in 
heaven  for  you.     Without  health  of  body  you  may  have 
happiness  of  spirit  ;  and  even   without   this  mortal  life 
you  may  enjoy  eternal  life.     AVithout  the  things  of  the 
world  you  may   live  in  want   for  a  little  while,  but  then 
you  will   soon  be    upon  an   equality  with  the   greatest 
princes.     But  without  this  one  thing  needful  you  are  un- 
done, absolutely  undone.     Though  you  were  as  rich  as 
Croesus,  you    "  are  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor, 
and  blind,  and  naked."     Your  very   being  becomes  a 
curse  to  you.     It    is  your   curse   that  you  are  a  man,  a 
reasonable  creature.     It   had  been  infinitelj'  better  for 
you  if  you  had  been  a  toad  or  a  snake,  and  so  incapable 
of  sin  and  of  immortality,  and  consequently  of  punish- 
ment.    0  then  let  this  grand  necessity  prevail  with  you  ! 
I  know  you  have  other  wants,  wdiich  you  should  mo- 
derately labor  to   provide  for,  but  O  how  small  and  of 
how  short  continuance  !     If  life  and  all  should  be  lost, 
you  may  more  than  find  all  in  heaven.      But  if  you  miss 
at  this  one  thing,  all  the  world  cannot  make  up  the  loss 
Therefore  to  conclude  with  the  awakening  and  resist- 
less w^ords  of  the  author  I  before  quoted,  "  Awake,  you 
sluggish,  careless  souls  !  your  house  over  your  head  is 
in  a  flame  !  the  hand  of  God  is  lifted  up  !    If  you  love 
yourselves,  prevent   the  stroke.     Vengeance  is  at  your 
Dacks,  the  wrath  of  God  pursues  your  sin,  and  wo  to  you 
if  he  finds  it  upon  you  when  he  overtaketh  you.     Away 
with  it  speedily  !  up  and  begone  ;  return  to  God  ;  make 
Christ  and  mercy  your  friends  in  time,  if  you  love  your 
lives  !   the  Judge  is  coming  !   for  all  that  you  have  heard 
of  it   so   long,  yet    still  you  believe   it  not.     You   shall 
shortly  see  the  majesty  of  his  appearance  and  the  dread- 
ful glory  of  his  face  j  and  yet  do  you  not  begin  to  look 


404  THE    0^E    THING    NEEDFUL 

about  you,  and  make  ready  for  such  a  day  1  Yea,  be- 
fore that  day,  your  separated  souls  shall  begin  to  reap  as 
you  have  sowed  here.  Though  now  the  partition  that 
stands  between  you  and  the  world  to  come  do  keep  un- 
believers strangers  to  the  things  that  most  concern 
them,  yet  death  will  quickly  find  a  portal  to  let  you  in  * 
and  then,  sinners,  you  will  find  such  doings  there  as  yoi 
little  thought  of,  or  did  not  sensibly  regard  upon  earth 
Before  your  friends  will  have  time  enough  to  wrap  up 
your  pale  corpse  in  your  winding-sheet,  you  will  see  and 
feel  that  which  will  tell  you  to  the  quick,  that  one  thing 
was  necessary.  If  you  die  without  this  one  thing  neces 
sary,  before  your  friends  can  have  finished  your  fune- 
rals, your  souls  will  have  taken  up  their  places  among 
devils  in  endless  torments  and  despair,  and  all  the 
wealth,  and  honor,  and  pleasure  that  the  world  aflbrded 
you  will  not  ease  you.  This  is  sad,  but  it  is  true.  Sirs  ; 
for  God  hath  spoken  it.  Up  therefore  and  bestir  you 
for  the  life  of  your  souls.  Necessity  will  awake  even 
the  sluggard.  Necessity,  we  say,  wiU  break  through 
stone  walls.  The  proudest  will  stoop  to  necessity  :  the 
most  slothful  will  bestir  themselves  in  necessity  :  the 
most  careless  will  be  industrious  in  necessity  :  necessity 
will  make  men  do  any  thing  that  is  possible  to  be  done. 
And  is  not  necessity,  the  highest  necessity,  your  own 
necessity,  able  to  make  you  cast  away  your  sins,  and 
take  up  a  holy  and  heavenly  life  1  O  poor  souls  !  is 
there  a  greater  necessity  for  your  sin  than  of  your  sal- 
vation, and  of  pleasing  your  flesh  for  a  little  time  than 
of  pleasing  the  Lord  and  escaping  everlasting  misery  1 
O  that  you  would  consider  what  I  say  !  and  the  Lord 
give  you  understanding  in  all  things.     Amen. 


BAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY  405 


SERMON  XXII. 

SAINTS  SAVED  WITH    DIFFICULTY  AND    THE  CERTAIN  PERDITION 
OF    SINNERS. 

1  Pet.  IV.   18. — Jlnd  if  the  righteous   scarcely  be  savcdy 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  ? 

This  text  may  sound  in  your  ears  like  a  message  from 
the  dead  ;  for  it  is  at  the  request  of  our  deceased  friend* 
that  I  now  insist  upon  it.  He  knew  so  much  from  the 
trials  he  made  in  life,  that  if  he  should  be  saved  at  all,  it 
would  be  with  great  difficulty,  and  if  he  should  escape 
destruction  at  all,  it  would  be  a  very  narrow  escape  ; 
and  he  also  knew  so  much  of  this  stupid,  careless  world, 
that  they  stood  in  need  of  a  solemn  warning  on  this 
head  5  and  therefore  desired  that  his  death  should  give 
occasion  to  a  sermon  on  this  alarming  subject.  But  now 
the  unknown  wonders  of  the  invisible  world  lie  open  to 
his  eyes  ;  and  now  also  he  can  take  a  full  review  of  his 
passage  through  this  mortal  life  ;  now  he  sees  the  many 
unsuspected  dangers  he  narrowly  escaped,  and  the 
many  fiery  darts  of  the  devil  which  the  shield  of  faith 
repelled  ;  now,  like  a  ship  arrived  in  port,  he  reviews  the 
rocks  and  shoals  he  passed  through,  many  of  which  lay 
under  water  and  out  of  sight ;  and  therefore  now  he  is 
more  fully  acquainted  with  the  difficulty  of  salvation 
than  ever.  And  should  he  now  rise  and  make  his  ap- 
pearance in  this  assembly  in  the  solemn  and  dread  attire 
of  an  inhabitant  of  the  world  of  spirits,  and  again  direct 
me  to  a  more  proper  subject,  methinks  he  would  still 
stand  to  his  choice,  and  propose  it  to  your  serious 
thoughts,  that  "  if  the  righteous  scarcely  be  saved, 
where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  V 

The  apostle's  principal  design  in  the  context  seems 
to  be  to  prepare  the  Christians  for  those  suffisrings 
which  he  saw  coming  upon  them,  on  account  of  their 
religion.  "Beloved,"  says  he,  "think  it  not  strange 
concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  you,  as  though 
some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you,"  verse  12,  "but 

•  The  person  was  Mr.  James  Hooper  j  and  the  sermon  is  dated  AugusI 
21, 1756. 


40b'  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY,    A^'D 

rejoice  inasmuch  as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  suifer* 
ings  :"  it  is  no    strange  thing  that  you  should   suffer  on 
account  of  your  religion  in  such  a  wicked  world  as  this, 
for  Christ  the   founder  of  your  religion  met  with  the 
same  treatment ;  and  it  is  enough  that  the  servant  be 
as  his  master,  ver.  13,  only  he  advises  them,  that  if  they 
must  suffer,  that  they  did  not  suffer  as  malefactors,  but 
onlj'  for  the  name  of  Christ,  ver.   14,  15.     "  But,"  says 
he,  "  if  any  man  suffer   as  a  Christian,  let  him  not  be 
ashamed,"  ver.  16,  "  for  the  time  is  come  that  judgment 
must  begin  at  the  house  of  God."      He  seems  to  have  a 
particular  viev/  to  the  cruel  persecution  that  a  little  after 
this  was  raised  against  the  Christians  by  the  tyrant  Nero, 
and  more  directly  to  that  which  was  raised  against  them 
everywhere  by  the  seditious  Jews,  who  were  the  most 
inveterate   enemies   of  Christianity.     The  dreadful  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem,   which  was   plainly  foretold  by 
Christ   in  the   hearing   of  St.  Peter,   was  now  at  hand. 
And  from  the  sufferings  which   Christians,  the  favorites 
of  Heaven,  endured,  he  infers  how  much  more  dreadful 
the  vengeance  would  be  which  should  fall  upon  their  ene- 
mies, the  infxdel  Jews,     If  judgment  begin  at  the  house 
of  God,  his  church,  what  shall  be  the  doom  of  the  camp 
of  rebels  1     If  it  begin   at  us  Christians  who  obey  the 
gospel,  what  shall  be  the  end  of  them  that  obey  it  not '? 
Alas  !  what  shall  become  of  them  1   Them  that  obey  not  the 
gospel  of  God,  is  a  description  of  the   unbelieving  Jews, 
to  whom  it  was  peculiarly  applicable  ;  and  the   apostle 
may  have  a  primary  reference  to  the  dreadful  destruction 
of  their  city  and  nation  which  was  much  more   severe 
than  all  the  sufferings  the  persecuted  Christians  had  then 
endured.     But  I  see  no  reason  for  confining  the  apostle's 
view  entirely  to  this  temporal  destruction  of  the  Jews: 
he  seems  to  refer  farther  to  that    still   more  terrible  de- 
struction that  awaits  all  that  obey  not  the   gospel  in  the 
eternal  world :  that  is  to  say,  if  the   children  are  so  se- 
verely chastised  in  this  world,  what  shall  become  of  re- 
bels in  the  world  to  come,   the  proper   state  of  retribu- 
tion 1  How  much  more  tremendous  must  be  their  fate  ! 

In  the  text  he  carries  on  the  same  reflection.  Jf  the 
righteous  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner  appear  1  The  righteous  is  the  common  character 
of  all  good  men  or  true  Christians  j  and  the  imgodly  and 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    01-     SINNERS.  407 

sinner  are  characters  which  may  inckide  tlio  wicked  of 
all  nations  and  ages.  Now,  sajs  he,  "  if  the  rigliteous 
be  but  scarcely  saved,  saved  with  great  diflicufty,  just 
saved,  and  no  more,  where  shall  idolaters  and  vicious 
sinners  appear,  whose  characters  are  so  opposite  1" 

The  abrupt  and  pungent  form  of  expression  is  ver\ 
emphatical.  Where  shall  the  ungodly  and  (he  simicr  ap- 
pear ?  I  need  not  tell  you,  your  own  reason  will  inforn; 
you :  I  appeal  to  yourselves  for  an  answer,  for  you  art 
all  capable  of  determining  upon  so  plain  a  case.  '  When 
shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear  1  Alas  !  it  strikes 
mc  dumb  with  horror  to  think  of  it :  it  is  so  shocking 
and  terrible  that  I  cannot  bear  to  describe  it.  Now  they 
are  gay,  merry,  and  rich ;  but  when  I  look  a  little  for- 
ward, I  see  them  appear  in  very  difierent  circumstances, 
and  the  horror  of  the  prospect  is  hardly  supportable. 

St.  Peter  here  supposes  that  there  is  something  in  the 
condition  and  character  of  a  righteous  man  that  renders 
his  salvation  comparatively  easy  ;  something  from  whence 
we  might  expect  that  he  will  certainly  be  saved,  and  that 
without  much  difficulty  :  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
there  is  something  in  the  opposite  character  and  condi- 
tion of  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner,  that  gives  us  reason 
to  conclude  that  there  is  no  probability  at  all  of  their 
salvation  while  they  continue  such.  But  he  asserts  that 
even  the  righteous,  whose  salvation  seems  so  likely  and 
comparatively  easy,  is  not  saved  without  great  difficulty  ; 
he  is  just  saved,  and  that  is  all :  what  then  shall  we  con- 
clude of  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner,  whose  character 
gives  no  ground  for  favorable  expectations  at  all  \  If  our 
hopes  are  but  just  accomplished,  with  regard  to  the  most 
promising,  what  shall  become  of  those  whose  case  is 
evidently  hopeless  1  Alas!  where  shall  they  appear  1 

The  method  in  which  I  intend  to  prosecute  our  subject 
is  this  : 

I.  I  shall  point  out  the  principal  difficulties,  which  even 
the  righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  salvation. 

II.  1  shall  mention  those  things  in  the  condition  and 
character  of  the  righteous,  which  render  his  salvation 
so  promising  and  seemingly  easy,  and  then  show  you 
that,  if  with  all  these  favorable  and  hopeful  circumstances 
he  is  not  saved  but  with  great  difficulty  and  danger, 
those  who  are  of  an  opposite  character,  and  whoso  con- 


408  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY,    AND 

dition  is  so  evidently  and  apparently  desperate,  cannot  be 
saved  at  all. 

I.  I  am  to  point  out  the  principal  difficulties  which 
even  the  righteous  meet  with  in  the  way  to  salvation. 

Here  I  would  premise,  that  such  who  have  become 
truly  religious,  and  persevered  in  the  Avay  of  holiness 
and  virtue  to  the  last,  will  meet  with  no  difficulty  at  all 
to  be  admitted  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  The  diffi- 
culty does  not  lie  here,  for  the  sam.e  apostle  Peter  as- 
sures us,  that  if  we  give  all  diligence  to  make  our  calling 
a?id  election  sure^  we  shall  never  fall ;  but  so  an  en- 
trance shall  he  administered  unto  us  abundantly  into  the 
everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ 
2  Peter  i.  10,  11.  But  the  difficulty  lies  in  this,  that, 
all  things  considered,  it  is  a  very  difficult  thing  to  ob- 
tain, and  persevere  in  real  religion  in  the  present  corrupt 
state  of  things,  where  we  meet  with  so  many  temptations 
and  such  powerful  opposition.  Or,  in  other  words,  it  is 
difficult  in  such  a  world  as  this  to  prepare  for  salvation ; 
and  this  renders  it  difficult  to  be  saved,  because  we  can- 
not be  saved  without  preparation. 

It  must  also  be  observed,  that  a  religious  life  is  attend- 
ed with  the  most  pure  and  solid  pleasures  even  in  this 
world ;  and  they  who  choose  it  act  the  wisest  part  with 
respect  to  the  present  state  ;  they  are  really  the  happiest 
people  upon  our  globe.  Yet,  were  it  otherwise,  the 
blessed  consequences  of  a  religious  life  in  the  eternal 
world  would  make  amends  for  all,  and  recommend  such 
a  course,  notwithstanding  the  greatest  difficulties  and 
the  severest  sufferings  that  might  attend  it. 

But  notwithstanding  this  concession,  the  Christian 
course  is  full  of  hardships,  oppositions,  trials,  and  dis- 
couragements. This  we  may  learn  from  the  metaphor- 
ical representations  of  it  in  the  sacred  writings,  which 
strongly  imply  that  it  is  attended  with  difficulties  Avhich 
require  the  utmost  exertion  of  all  our  powers  to  sur- 
mount It  is  called  a  warfare,  1  Tim.  i.  18,  fighting, 
2  Tim  vi.  7.  The  graces  of  the  Christian,  and  the 
means  of  begetting  and  cherishing  them,  are  called 
weapons  of  war :  there  is  the  shield  of  faith :  the  hope 
of  salvation,  which  is  the  helmet ;  the  sword  of  the  Spir 
it  which  is  the  word  of  God,  2  Cor.  x.  4,  Eph.  vi.  13,17 
The  end  of  the  Christian's  course  is  victory  after  con 


THE    CEUTAIN    PERDITION    OF    6INNKKS.  409 

fliet,  fvev.  ii.  7.  And  Christians  are  soldiers;  and  such 
as  must  endure  hardship:^,  2  Tim.  ii.  3.  Now  a  military 
life  you  know  is  a  scene  of  labor,  hardships  and  dan- 
gers ;  and  therefore  so  is  the  Christian  life,  which  is 
compared  to  it  in  these  respects.  It  is  compared  to  a 
race,  Heb.  xii.  1,  2,  to  wrestling  and  the  other  vigorous 
exercises  of  the  Olympic  games,  Eph.  vi.  12,  Luke  xiii. 
24,  to  walking  in  a  narrow  way.  Matt.  vii.  14,  and  enter- 
ing at  the  strait  gate,  Luke  xiii.  24.  This,  my  brethren, 
and  this  only,  is  the  way  to  salvation.  And  is  this  the 
way  in  which  you  are  walking  ?  Or  is  it  the  smooth, 
easy,  downward  road  to  destruction  ?  You  may  slide 
along  that  without  exertion  or  difficulty,  like  a  dead  fish 
swimming  with  the  stream ;  but,  O  !  look  before  you,  and 
see  whither  it  leads  ! 

The  enemies  that  oppose  our  religious  progress  are 
the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh.  These  form  a  pow- 
erful alliance  against  our  salvation,  and  leave  no  artifice 
untried  to  obstruct  it. 

The  things  of  the  world,  though  good  in  themselves, 
are  temptations  to  such  depraved  hearts  as  ours.  Rich- 
es, honors,  pleasure,  spread  their  charms,  and  tempt  us 
to  the  pursuit  of  flying  shadows  to  the  neglect  of  the 
one  thing  needful.  These  engross  the  thoughts  and 
concerns,  the  aflTections  and  labors  of  multitudes.  They 
engage  with  such  eagerness  in  an  excessive  hurry  of 
business  and  anxious  care,  or  so  debauch  and  stupefy 
themselves  with  sensual  pleasures,  that  the  voice  of  God 
is  not  heard,  the  clamors  of  conscience  are  drowned,  the 
state  of  their  souls  is  not  inquired  into,  the  interests  of 
eternity  are  forgotten,  the  eternal  God,  the  joys  of  heav- 
en, and  the  pains  of  hell,  are  cast  out  of  the  mind,  and 
disregarded;  and  they  care  not  for  any  or  all  of  these 
important  realities,  if  they  can  but  gratify  the  lust  of 
avarice,  ambition,  and  sensuality. — And  are  such  likely 
to  perform  the  arduous  work  of  salvation  ?  No  ;  they 
do  not  so  much  as  seriously  attempt  it.  Now  these 
things  which  are  fatal  to  multitudes  throw  great  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  even  of  the  righteous  man.  He  finds  it 
hard  to  keep  his  mind  intent  upon  his  great  concern  in 
the  midst  of  such  labors  and  cares  as  he  is  obliged  to 
engage  in ;  and  frequently  he  feels  his  heart  estranged 
from  God  and  ensnared  into   the  ways  of  sin,  his  devo- 


410  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY,    AND 

tion  cooled,  and  his  whole  soul  disordered  by  these  al- 
lurements. In  short,  he  finds  it  one  of  the  hardest  things 
in  the  world  to  maintain  a  heavenly  mind  in  such  an 
earthly  region,  a  spiritual  temper,  among  so  many  car- 
nal objects. 

The  men  of  this  world  also  increase  his  difficulties. 
Their  vain,  trifling,  or  wacked  conversation,  their  ensnar- 
ing examples,  their  persuasions,  false  reasonings,  re- 
proaches, menaces,  and  all  their  arts  of  flattery  and  ter- 
ror, have  sometimes  a  very  sensible  effect  upon  him. 
These  would  draw  him  into  some  guilty  compliances, 
damp  his  courage,  and  tempt  him  to  apostatize,  were  he 
not  always  upon  his  guard ;  and  sometimes  in  an  inad- 
vertent hour  he  feels  their  fatal  influence  upon  him.  As 
for  the  generality,  they  yield  themselves  up  to  these 
temptations,  and  make  little  or  no  resistance ;  and  thus 
are  carried  dowai  the  stream  into  the  infernal  pit.  Alas ! 
how  many  ruin  themselves  through  a  base,  unmanly 
complaisance,  and  servile  conformity  to  the  mode !  Be- 
lieve it.  Sirs,  to  be  fashionably  religious  and  no  more,  is 
to  be  really  irreligious  in  the  sight  of  God.  The  way  of 
the  multitude  may  seem  easy,  pleasant  and  sociable  ;  but, 
alas,  my  brethren,  see  where  it  ends ;  it  leadeth  down  into 
destruction.  Matt.  vii.  14. 

But,  in  the  next  place,  the  greatest  difficulty  in  our 
way  arises  from  the  corruption  and  wickedness  of  our 
own  hearts.  This  is  an  enemy  within ;  and  it  is  this 
that  betrays  us  into  the  hands  of  our  enemies  without. 
When  we  turn  our  eyes  to  this  quarter,  what  vast  diffi- 
culties rise  in  our  way !  difficulties  which  are  impossible- 
to  us,  unless  the  almighty  power  enables  us  to  sur- 
mount them.  Such  are  a  blind  mind,  ignorant  of  divine 
things,  or  that  speculates  only  upon  them,  but  does  not 
see  their  reality  and  dread  importance ;  a  mind  empty  of 
God  and  full  of  the  lumber  and  vanities  of  this  world. 
Such  are  a  hard  heart,  insensible  of  sin,  insensible  of 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  beauties  of  holiness,  and  the 
infinite  moment  of  eternal  things.  Such  arc  a  heart  dis- 
aflfected  to  God  and  his  service,  bent  upon  sin,  and  im- 
patient of  restraint.  Such  are  wild,  unruly  passions 
thrown  into  a  ferment  by  every  trifle,  raised  by  vanities, 
erroneous  in  the  choice  of  objects,  irregular  in  their  mo- 
tions,   and    extravagant    in    the    degree    of   attachment. 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF    SINNERS.  411 

Such  difficulties  are  strong,  ungovernable  lusts  and  ap- 
petites in  animal  nature,  eager  for  gratification,  and 
turbulent  under  restraint.  And  how  strangely  does  this 
inward  corruption  indispose  men  for  religion  !  Ilence 
their  ignorance,  their  security,  carelessness,  presumptu- 
ous hopes,  and  impenitence.  Hence  their  unwillingness 
to  admit  conviction,  their  resistance  to  the  Holy  Spirit 
and  their  contempt  of  the  gospel,  their  disregard  to  all 
religious  instructions,  their  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace, 
and  the  ordinances  of  Christ,  or  their  careless,  formal, 
lukewarm  attendance  upon  them.  Hence  their  earthly- 
mindedness,  their  sensuality,  and  excessive  love  of  ani- 
mal pleasures.  Hence  it  is  so  difficult  to  awaken  them 
to  a  just  sense  of  their  spiritual  condition,  and  to  suita- 
ble earnestness  in  their  religious  endeavors :  and  hence 
their  fickleness  and  inconstancy,  their  relapses  and  back- 
slidings,  when  they  have  been  a  little  alarmed.  Hence 
it  is  so  difficult  to  bring  their  religious  impressions  to 
a  right  issue,  and  to  lead  them  to  Jesus  Christ  as  the  only 
Saviour.  In  short,  hence  it  is  that  so  many  thousands 
perish  amidst  the  means  of  salvation.  These  difficulties 
prove  eventually  insuperable  to  the  generality  ;  and  they 
never  surmount  them.  But  even  the  righteous,  who  is 
daily  conquering  them  by  the  aid  of  divine  grace,  and 
will  at  last  be  more  than  a  conqueror,  he  still  finds  many 
hinderances  and  discouragements  from  this  quarter.  The 
remains  of  these  innate  corruptions  still  cleave  to  him 
in  the  present  state,  and  these  render  his  progress  heav- 
enward so  slow  and  heavy.  These  render  his  life  a  con- 
stant warfare,  and  he  is  obliged  to  fight  his  way  through. 
These  frequently  check  the  aspirations  of  his  soul  to 
God,  cool  his  devotion,  damp  his  courage,  ensnare  his 
thoughts  and  affections  to  things  below,  and  expose  him 
to  the  successful  attacks  of  temptation.  Alas  !  it  is  his 
innate  corruption  that  involves  him  in  darkness  and  jeal- 
ousies, in  tears  and  terrors,  after  hours  of  spiritual  light, 
joy  and  confidence.  It  is  this  that  banishes  him  from 
the  comfortable  presence  of  his  God,  and  causes  him  to 
go  mourning  without  the  light  of  his  countenance.  Were 
it  not  for  this,  he  would  glide  along  through  life  easy 
and  unmolested ;  he  would  find  the  ways  of  religion  to 
be  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  peace.  In 
short,  it  is  this  that  lies  upon  his  heart  as  the  heaviest 


412  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULT i',    AND 

burden,  and  renders  his  course  so  rugged  and  danger- 
ous. And  such  of  you  as  do  not  know  this  by  experi- 
ence, know  nothing  at  all  of  true  experimental  Chris- 
tianity. 

Finally,  the  devil  and  his  angels  are  active,  powerful 
and  artful  enemies  to  our  salvation :  their  agency  is 
often  unperceived,  but  it  is  insinuating,  unsuspected, 
and  therefore  the  more  dangerous  and  successful.  These 
malignant  spirits  present  ensnaring  images  to  the  imagi- 
nation, and  no  doubt  blow  the  flame  of  passion  and  ap- 
petite. They  labor  to  banish  serious  thoughts  from  the 
mind,  and  entertain  it  with  trifles.  They  give  force  to 
the  attacks  of  temptations  from  the  world,  and  raise  and 
foment  insurrections  of  sin  within.  And  if  they  cannot 
hinder  the  righteous  man  from  entering  upon  a  religious 
course,  or  divert  him  from  it,  they  will  at  least  render  it 
as  difficult,  laborious,  and  uncomfortable  to  him  as  possi- 
ble. 

See,  my  brethren,  see  the  way  in  which  you  must 
walk  if  you  would  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
In  this  rugged  road  they  have  all  walked  who  are  now 
safe  arrived  at  their  journey's  end,  the  land  of  rest. 
They  were  saved,  but  it  was  with  great  difficulty  :  they 
escaped  the  fatal  rocks  and  shoals,  but  it  was  a  very 
narrow  escape ;  and  methinks  it  is  with  a  kind  of  pleas- 
ing horror  they  now  review  the  numerous  dangers 
through  which  they  passed,  many  of  which  they  did  not 
perhaps  suspect  till  they  were  over.*  And  is  this  the 
way  in  which  you  are  walking?  Is  your  religion  a 
course  of  watchfulness,  labor,  conflict,  and  vigorous  ex- 
ertion ?  Are  you  indeed  in  earnest  in  it  above  all  things 
in  this  world  ?  Or  are  not  many  of  you  lukewarm  Lao- 
diceans  and  indifferent  Gallios  about  these  things'?  If 
your  religion  (if  it  may  be  so  called)  is  a  course  of  se- 
curity, carelessness,  sloth  and  formality — alas !  if  all 
the  vigor  and  exertion  of  the  righteous  man  be  but  just 

*  There  on  a  green^nd  flowery  mount, 

Their  weary  souls  now  sit ; 
And  with  transporting  joys  recount 

The  labors  of  their  feet. 
Eternal  glories  to  tiie  King 

That  brought  them  safely  through 
Their  lips  shall  never  cease  to  sing, 

And  endless  praise  renew. 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF    SINNERS.  413 

sufficient  for  his  salvation,  where,  O  ^vhero  shall  you  ap- 
pear 1     Which  leads  me, 

II.  To  mention  those  things  in  the  character  and  condi- 
tion of  the  righteous,  which  render  his  salvation  so  prom- 
ising and  seemingly  easy,  and  then  show,  that  if  with  all 
those  hopeful  circumstances  he  shall  not  he  saved  hut  with 
great  difficulty,  that  they,  whose  character  is  directly  oppo- 
site, and  has  nothing  encouraging  iu  it,  cannot  possibly  ho 
saved  at  all.  And  this  head  I  shall  cast  into  such  a  form 
as  to  exemplify  the  text. 

1.  If  those  "that  abstain  from  immorality  and  vice  be 
but  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the  vicious,  profligate  sin- 
ner  appear  1 

It  is  the  habitual  character  of  a  righteous  man  to  be 
temperate  and  sober,  chaste,  just,  and  charitable ;  to  re- 
vere the  name  of  God,  and  everything  sacred,  and  re- 
ligiously observe  the  holy  hours  devoted  to  the  service 
of  God.  This  is  always  an  essential  part  of  his  charac- 
ter, though  not  the  whole  of  it.  Now  such  a  man  looks 
promising  ;  he  evidently  appears  so  far  prepared  for  the 
heavenly  state,  because  he  is  so  far  conformed  to  the 
law  of  God,  and  free  from  those  enormities  which  are 
never  found  in  the  region  of  happiness.  And  if  such 
shall  scarcely  be  saved,  where  shall  those  of  the  oppo- 
site character  appear  ?  Where  shall  the  brute  of  a 
drunkard,  the  audacious  swearer,  the  scoffer  at  religion, 
the  unclean,  lecherous  wretch,  the  liar,  the  defrauder, 
the  thief,  the  extortioner,  the  Sabbath-breaker,  the  rev- 
eller,  where  shall  these  appear?  Are  these  likely  to 
stand  in  the  congregation  of  the  righteous,  or  to  appear 
in  the  presence  of  God  with  joy?  Is  there  the  least 
likelihood  that  such  shall  be  saved  1  If  you  will  regard 
the  authority  of  an  inspired  apostle  in  the  case,  I  can 
direct  you  to  those  places  where  you  may  find  his  ex- 
press determination.  1.  Cor.  vi.  9,  10.  "  Know  ye  not 
that  the  unrighteous  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God  1  Be  not  deceived ;  neither  fornicators,  nor  adul- 
terers, nor  abusers  of  themselves  with  mankind,  nor 
thieves,  nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor  revilers,  nor 
extortioners,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God."  So 
Gal.  V.  19 — 21.  "The  works  of  the  flesh  arc  manifest, 
which  are  these — adultery,  fornication,  uncloanncss,  las- 
civiousness,  hatred,  variance,  emulations,  wratli,  strife, 
35* 


414  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY,    AND 

heresies,  seditions,  envyinjrs,  revellings,  and  such  like, 
of  the  which  I  tell  you  before ;"  that  is,  I  honestly  fore- 
warn you,  as  I  have  also  told  you  in  time  past,  that  they 
v/ho  do  such  things  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Rev.  xxi.  8.  "  The  fearful,  (that  is,  the  cowardly 
in  the  cause  of  religion,)  the  unbelieving,  and  the  abom- 
inable, and  murderers,  and  whoremongers,  and  all  liars, 
shall  have  their  part  in  the  lake  that  burneth  with  fire 
and  brimstone."  You  see,  my  brethren,  the  declarations 
of  the  scripture  are  express  enough  and  repeated  on  this 
point.  And  are  there  not  some  of  you  here  who  in- 
dulge yourselves  in  one  or  other  of  these  vices,  and  yet 
hope  to  be  saved  in  that  course  ?  that  is,  you  hope  your 
Bible  and  your  religion  too  are  false ;  for  it  is  only  on 
that  supposition  that  your  hope  of  salvation  can  be  ac- 
complished. Alas  !  will  you  venture  your  eternal  all 
upon  the  truth  of  such  a  blasphemous  supposition  as  this  ? 
But, 

2.  If  those  that  conscientiously  perform  the  duties  of 
religion  be  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the  neglecters  of 
them  appear  ? 

The  righteous  are  characterized  as  persons  that  hon- 
estly endeavor  to  perform  all  the  duties  they  owe  to 
God.  They  devoutly  read  and  hear  his  word,  and  make 
divine  things  their  study  ;  they  are  no  strangers  to  the 
throne  of  grace  ;  they  live  a  life  of  prayer  in  their  retire- 
ments, and  in  a  social  capacity.  They  make  their  fami- 
lies little  churches,  in  which  divine  worship  is  solemnly 
performed.  Let  others  do  as  they  will ;  as  for  them  and 
their  houses,  like  Joshua,  they  will  serve  the  Lord :  Josh, 
xxiv.  15.  They  gratefully  commemorate  the  sufferings 
of  Christ,  and  give  themselves  up  to  him  at  his  table ; 
and  seriously  improve  all  the  ordinances  of  the  gospel. 
In  short,  like  Zacharias  and  Elizabeth,  they  ivalk  in  all 
the  statutes  and  ordinances  of  God^  blameless :  Luke  i.  6. 
This  is  their  prevailing  and  habitual  character.  And 
there  is  something  in  this  character  that  gives  reason  to 
presume  they  will  be  saved  :  for  they  have  now  a  relish 
for  the  service  of  God,  in  which  the  happiness  of  heaven 
consists  :  they  are  training  up  in  the  humble  forms  of 
devotion  in  the  church  below,  for  the  more  exalted  em- 
ployments of  the  church  triumphant  on  high.  Now  if 
persons   of   this   cluiracter  are  but  scarcely    saved,  where 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF    SINNERS.  415 

sliall  the  ungodly  arppear^  who  persist  in  the  wilful  neglect 
of  these  known  duties  of  religion  ?  Can  they  be  saved 
who  do  not  so  much  as  use  the  means  of  salvation  ? 
Can  those  who  do  not  study  their  Bible,  the  only  direc- 
tory to  eternal  life,  expect  to  find  the  way  thither  ?  Can 
prayerless  souls  receive  answers  to  prayer?  Will  all 
the  bliss  of  heaven  be  throwni  away  upon  such  as  do  not 
think  it  worth  their  while  importunately  to  ask  itl  Are 
they  likely  to  be  admitted  into  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first-born  in  heaven,  who  do  not  endeavor 
to  make  their  families  little  circles  of  religion  here  upon 
earth?  In  a  word,  are  they  likely  to  join  forever  in  the 
devotions  of  the  heavenly  state,  who  do  not  accustom 
themselves  to  these  sacred  exercises  in  this  preparatory 
state  ?  Will  you  venture  your  souls  upon  it  that  you 
shall  be  saved,  notwithstanding  these  improbabiliiies,  or 
rather  impossibilities  ?  Alas !  are  there  any  of  you  that 
have  no  better  hopes  of  heaven  than  these  ?  Where 
then  will  you  appear  ? 

3.  If  they  that  are  more  than  externally  moral  and  relig- 
ious in  their  conduct,  that  have  been  born  again,  created 
in  Christ  Jesus  to  good  works,  as  every  man  that  is  truly 
righteous  has  been ;  if  such,  I  say,  be  but  scarcely  saved, 
where  shall  they  appear  who  rest  in  their  mere  outward 
morality,  their  proud  self-righteous  virtue,  and  their  re- 
ligious formalities,  and  have  never  been  made  new  crea- 
tures, never  had  the  inward  principles  of  action  changed 
by  the  power  of  God,  and  the  inbred  disorders  of  the 
heart  rectified  ?  Where  shall  they  appear  who  have  no- 
thing but  a  self  sprung  religion,  the  genuine  offspring 
of  degenerate  nature,  and  never  had  a  supernatural  prin- 
ciple of  grace  implanted  in  their  souls  ?  Has  that  solemn 
asseveration  of  the  Amen,  the  faithful  and  true  witness, 
lost  all  its  force,  and  become  falsehood  in  our  age  and 
country  ?  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  except  a 
man  be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en :"  John  iii.  3.  Is  there  no  weight  in  such  apostolic 
declarations  as  these  ?  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is 
a  new  creature ;  old  things  are  passed  away,  and  behold 
all  things  are  become  new ;  and  all  these  new  things  are 
of  God :"  2  Cor.  v.  17.  "  Neither  circumcision  availeth 
anything,  nor  uncircumcision:"  Gal.  vi.  15:  that  is  to 
say,  a  conformity  to  the  rituals  of  the  Jewish  or  Chris- 


416 

tian  religion  availeth  nothing,  but  the  new  creature. 
Can  men  flatter  themselves  they  shall  be  saved  by  the 
Christian  religion,  in  opposition  to  these  plain,  strong, 
and  repeated  declarations  of  the  Christian  revelation? 
And  yet,  are  there  not  many  here  who  are  entirely  igno- 
rant of  this  renovation  of  the  temper  of  their  mind,  of 
this  inward  heaven- born  religion  ? 

4.  If  they  that  are  striving  to  enter  in  at  the  strait 
gate,  and  pressing  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  do  but 
just  obtain  admission ;  if  they  who  forget  the  things 
that  are  behind,  and  reach  after  those  that  are  before 
them,  and  press  with  all  their  might  towards  the  goal, 
do  scarcely  obtain  the  prize,  what  shall  become  of  those 
lukewarm,  careless,  formal,  presumptuous  professors  of 
Christianity  who  are  so  numerous  among  us  ?  Where 
shall  they  appear  who  have  but  a  form  of  godliness  2oitk- 
out  the  power,  2  Tim.  iii.  5  ;  and  have  no  spiritual  life  in 
their  religion,  but  only  a  name  to  live?  Rev.  iii.  1.  If 
those  whose  hearts  are  habitually  solicitous  about  their 
eternal  state,  who  labor  in  earnest  for  the  immortal  bread, 
who  pray  with  unutterable  groans,  Rom.  viii,  26;  who, 
in  short,  make  the  care  of  their  souls  the  principal  busi- 
ness of  their  life,  and  in  some  measure  proportion  their 
industry  and  earnestness  to  the  importance  and  difficulty 
of  the  work ;  if  such  are  but  scarcely  saved,  with  all 
their  labor  and  pains,  where  shall  they  appear  who  are 
at  ease  in  Zion,  Amos  vi.  1,  whose  religion  is  but  a 
mere  indifferency,  a  thing  by  the  by  with  them  ?  If  we 
cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  unless  our 
righteousness  exceed  that  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees, 
Matt.  V.  20,  where  shall  they  appear  whose  righteous- 
ness is  far  short  of  theirs  ?  And  are  there  not  many  such 
in  this  assembly?  Alas!  my  brethren,  where  do  you 
expect  to  appear  1 

5.  If  they  that  have  believed  in  Jesus  Christ,  which  is 
the  grand  condition  of  salvation,  be  but  scarcely  saved, 
where  shall  the  unbeliever  appear  1 

Faith  in  Christ  is  an  essential  ingredient  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  righteous  man ;  and  faith  cannot  be  implanted 
in  our  hearts  till  we  have  been  made  deeply  sensible  of 
our  sins,  of  our  condemnation  by  the  law  of  God,  and 
our  utter  inability  to  procure  pardon  and  salvation  by 
the  merit   of  our   repentance,   reformation,    or   anything 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF    SINNERS.  417 

we  can  do.  And  when  we  arc  reduced  to  this  extremity, 
then  we  shall  listen  with  eager  ears  to  the  proposal  of  a 
Savior.  And  when  we  see  his  glory  and  sufliciency, 
and  cast  our  guilty  souls  upon  him,  uhen  we  submit  to 
his  commands,  depend  entirely  upon  his  atonement, 
and  give  up  ourselves  to  God  through  him,  then  we 
believe.  Now,  if  they  who  thus  believe,  to  whom  salva- 
tion is  so  often  ensured,  be  not  saved  but  with  great  dif- 
ficulty, where  shall  those  appear  who  never  have  ex- 
perienced those  exercises  which  are  the  antecedents  or 
constituents  of  saving  faith?  who  have  never  seen  their 
own  guilt  and  helplessness  in  an  affecting  light ;  who  have 
never  seen  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
who  have  never  submitted  to  him  as  their  Prophet, 
Priest,  and  King,  and  who  do  not  live  in  the  flesh  by 
faith  in  the  Son  of  God  ?  Alas  !  are  they  likely  to  be 
saved  who  are  destitute  of  the  grand  pre-requisite  of 
salvation  ?  And  yet,  is  not  this  the  melancholy  case  of 
some  of  you  ?  You  may  not  be  avowed  unbelievers ; 
you  may  believe  there  is  one  God,  and  that  Jesus  is  the 
true  Messiah :  in  this  you  do  well,  but  still  it  is  no 
mighty  attainment,  for  the  devils  also  believe  and  trem- 
ble, and  you  may  have  this  speculative  faith,  and  yet  be 
wholly  destitute  of  the  faith  of  the  operation  of  God,  the 
precious  fliith  of  God's  elect ;  that  faith  which  purifies 
the  heart,  produces  good  works,  and  unites  the  soul  to 
Jesus  Christ.  Certainly  the  having  or  not  having  of 
such  a  faith,  must  make  a  great  difference  in  a  man's 
character,  and  must  be  followed  by  a  proportionally 
different  doom.  And  if  they  that  have  it  be  but  scarcely 
saved,  I  appeal  to  yourselves,  can  they  be  saved  at  all 
who  have  it  not  ? 

6.  If  true  penitents  be  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the 
impenitent  appear  1 

It  is  the  character  of  the  righteous  that  he  is  deeply 
affected  with  sorrow  for  his  sins  in  heart  and  practice ; 
that  he  hates  them  without  exception  with  an  implaca- 
ble enmity ;  that  he  strives  against  them,  and  would  re- 
sist them  even  unto  blood ;  that  his  repentance  is  attend- 
ed with  reformation,  and  that  he  forsakes  those  things 
for  the  commission  of  which  his  heart  is  broken  with 
sorrows.  Now,  repentance  appears  evidently  to  the 
common   reason   of  mankind   a   hopeful   preparative   for 


418  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY,   AND 

acceptance  with  God  and  eternal  happiness ;  and  there- 
fore if  they  who  repent  are  saved  with  great  difficulty, 
where  shall  they  appear  who  persist  impenitent  in  sin  ? 
Where  shall  they  appear  who  have  hard  unbroken  hearts 
in  their  breasts,  who  are  insensible  of  the  evil  of  sin, 
who  indulge  themselves  in  it,  and  cannot  be  persuaded 
to  forsake  it  ?  Can  you  be  at  any  loss  to  know  the 
doom  of  such,  after  Christ  has  told  us  with  his  own 
lips,  which  never  pronounced  a  harsh  censure  1  Except 
ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likeivise  perish.  Luke  xiii.  3,  5. 
And  are  there  not  some  of  this  character  in  this  assem- 
bly 1  Alas !  there  is  not  the  least  likelihood,  or  even 
possibility  of  your  salvation  in  such  a  condition. 

7.  The  righteous  man  has  the  love  of  God  shed 
abroad  in  his  heart,  and  it  produces  the  usual  sentiments 
and  conduct  of  love  towards  him.  God  is  dearer  to  him 
than  all  other  things  in  heaven  and  earth :  the  strength 
of  his  heart,  and  his  portion  forever.  Psalm  Ixxiii.  25, 
26.  His  affectionate  thoughts  fix  upon  him,  Psalm 
Ixiii,  6 ;  he  rejoices  in  the  light  of  his  countenance. 
Psalm  iv.  7 ;  and  longs  and  languishes  for  him  in  his 
absence.  Psalm  xlii.  1,  2,  and  Ixiii.  1.  Cant  iii.  1.  His 
love  is  a  powerful  principle  of  willing  obedience,  and 
carries  him  to  keep  his  commandments.  1  John  v.  3. 
He  delights  in  the  law  and  service  of  God,  and  in  com- 
munion with  him  in  his  ordinances.  Now,  such  a  prin- 
ciple of  love  is  a  very  hopeful  preparative  for  heaven, 
the  region  of  love,  and  for  the  enjoyment  of  God.  Such 
a  one  would  take  pleasure  in  him  and  in  his  service,  and 
therefore  he  certainly  shall  never  be  excluded.  But  if 
even  such  are  but  scarcely  saved,  where  shall  they  ap- 
pear who  are  destitute  of  the  love  of  God  %  There  are 
few  indeed  but  pretend  to  be  lovers  of  God,  but  their 
love  has  not  the  inseparable  properties  of  that  sacred 
passion.  Their  pretence  to  it  is  an  absurdity,  and  if  put 
into  language,  would  be  such  jargon  as  this,  "  Lord  I 
love  thee  above  all  things,  though  I  hardly  ever  affec- 
tionately think  of  thee ;  1  love  thee  above  all,  though  I  am 
not  careful  to  please  thee ;  I  love  thee  above  all,  though 
my  conduct  towards  thee  is  quite  the  reverse  of  what  it 
is  towards  one  I  love."  Will  such  an  inconsistency  as 
this  pass  for  genuine  supreme  love  to  God,  when  it  will 
not  pass  for  common  friendship  among  men  1     No,  such 


THE    CERTAIN    PERDITION    OF    BINNERR.  419 

have  not  the  least  spark  of  that  heavenly  fire  in  their 
breasts,  for  their  carnal  mind  is  enmity  a<2^ainst  God. 
And  are  these  likely  to  be  saved  ?  likely  to  be  admitted 
into  the  region  of  love,  where  there  is  not  one  cold  or 
disloyal  heart  ?  likely  to  be  happy  in  the  presence  and 
service  of  that  God  to  whom  they  are  disaffected  ?  Alas  ! 
no.  Where  then  shall  they  appear  1  O  !  in  what  forlorn, 
remote  region  of  eternal  exile  from  the  blessed  God ! 

I  shall  now  conclude  with  a  few  reflections.  1.  You 
may  hence  see  the  work  of  salvation  is  not  that  easy 
trifling  thing  which  many  take  it  to  be.  They  seem 
mighty  cautious  of  laying  out  too  much  pains  upon  it; 
and  they  cannot  bear  that  people  should  make  so  much 
ado,  and  keep  such  a  stir  and  noise  about  it.*  For  their 
part,  they  hope  to  go  to  heaven  as  well  as  the  best  of 
them,  without  all  this  preciseness  and  upon  these 
principles  they  act.  They  think  they  can  never  be  too 
much  in  earnest,  or  too  laborious  in  the  pursuit  of 
earthly  things ;  but  religion  is  a  matter  by  the  by  with 
them ;  only  the  business  of  an  hour  once  a  w-eck.  But 
have  these  learned  their  religion  from  Christ  the  founder 
of  it,  or  from  his  apostles  whom  he  appointed  teachers 
of  if?  No,  they  have  formed  some  easy  system  from 
their  own  imaginations  suited  to  their  depraved -taste, 
indulgent  to  their  sloth  and  carnality,  and  favorable  to 
their  lusts,  and  this  they  call  Christianity.  But  you 
have  seen  this  is  not  the  religion  of  the  Bible  ;  this  is 
not  the  way  to  life  laid  out  by  God,  but  it  is  the  smooth 
downw^ard  road  to  destruction.     Therefore, 

2.  Examine  yourselves  to  which  class  you  belong, 
whether  to  that  of  the  righteous,  who  shall  be  saved, 
though  with  difliculty,  or  to  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner,  who  mu^t  appear  in  a  very  difterent  situation. 
To  determine  thi^  iaiportant  inquiry,  recollect  the  sundry 
parts  of  the  righteous  man's  character  which  I  have 
briefly  described,  and  see  whether  they  belong  to  you. 
Do  you  carefully  abstain  from  vice  and  immorality? 
Do  you  make  conscience  of  every  duty  of  religion. 
Have  you  ever  been  born  again  of  God,  and  made  more 
than  externally  religious?     Are  you  sensible  of  the  dif- 

*  I  here  affect  tliis  low  style  on  purpose,  to  represent  more  exactly  the 
sentimeuts  of  such  careless  sinners  in  their  own  usual  language. 


420  SAINTS    SAVED    WITH    DIFFICULTY. 

ficulties  in  your  way  from  Satan,  the  world,  and  the 
flesh  1  And  do  you  exert  yourselves  as  in  a  field  of 
battle  or  m  a  race  1  Do  you  work  out  your  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling,  and  press  into  the  kingdom  of 
God  ?  Are  you  true  believers,  penitents,  and  lovers  of 
God?  Are  these  or  the  contrary  the  constituents  of 
your  habitual  character  ?  I  pray  you  make  an  impartial 
trial,  for  much  depends  upon  it. 

3.  If  this  be  your  habitual  character,  be  of  good  cheer, 
for  you  shall  be  saved  though  with  difficulty.  Be  not 
discouraged  when  you  fall  into  fiery  trials,  for  they  are 
no  strange  things  in  the  present  state.  All  that  have 
walked  in  the  same  narrow  road  before  you  have  met 
with  them,  but  now  they  are  safe  arrived  in  their  eter- 
nal home.  Let  your  dependence  be  upon  the  aids  of 
divine  grace  to  bear  you  through,  and  you  will  overcome 
at  last.     But, 

4.  If  your  character  be  that  of  the  ungodly  and  the 
sinner,  pause  and  think,  where  shall  you  appear  at  last  1 
When,  like  our  deceased  friend,  you  leave  this  mortal 
state,  and  launch  into  regions  unknown,  where  will  you 
then  appear  ?  Must  it  not  be  in  the  region  of  sin,  which 
is  your  element  now  1  in  the  society  of  the  devils,  whom 
you  resemble  in  temper,  and  imitate  in  conduct  1  among 
the  trembling  criminals  at  the  left  hand  of  the  Judge, 
where  the  ungodly  and  sinners  shall  all  be  crowded  1  If 
you  continue  such  as  you  now  are,  have  you  any  reason 
at  all  to  hope  for  a  more  favorable  doom  1 

I  shall  conclude  with  a  reflection  to  exemplify  the 
context  in  another  view,  and  that  is,  "  If  Judgment  be- 
gin at  the  house  of  God,  what  shall  be  the  end  of  them 
that  obey  not  the  gospel  ?  If  the  righteous,  the  favorites 
of  Heaven,  suffer  so  much  in  this  world,  what  shall  sin- 
ners, with  whom  God  is  angry  every  day,  and  who  are 
vessels  of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction,  what  shall  they 
suffer  in  the  eternal  world,  the  proper  place  for  rewards 
and  punishments,  and  where  an  equitable  Providence 
deals  with  every  man  according  to  his  works'?  If  the 
children  are  chastised  with  various  calamities,  and  even 
die  in  common  with  the  rest  of  mankind,  what  shall  be 
the  doom  of  enemies  and  rebels  ?  If  those  meet  with  so 
many  diflficulties  in  the  pursuit  of  salvation,  what  shall 
these   suffer   in     enduring    damnation?      If   the   infernal 


INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE.  421 

powers  are  permitted  to  worry  Christ's  sheep  how  will 
they  rend  and  tear  the  wicked  as  their  proper  prey  ?  O 
that  you  may  in  "  this  your  day  know  the  things  that  be- 
long to  your  peace,  before  they  are  forever  hid  from  voiir 
eyes."     Luke  xix.  42. 


SERMON  XXIII. 


INDIFFERENCE     TO     LIFE     URGED     FROM    ITS     SHORTNESS     AND 
VANITY.* 

1  CoR.  vii.  29,  30,  31. — But  this  I  say,  brethren,  that  the 
time  is  short :  it  remaineth  that  both  they  that  have  wives 
be  as  though  they  had  none ;  and  they  that  weep,  as 
though  they  ivept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though 
they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  pos- 
sessed not  ;  and  they  that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it : 
for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away. 

A  Creature  treading  every  moment  upon  the  slippery 
brink  of  the  grave,  and  ready  every  moment  to  shoot  the 
gulf  of  eternity,  and  launch  away  to  some  unknown 
coast,  ought  to  stand  always  in  the  posture  of  serious 
expectation ;  ought  every  day  to  be  in  his  own  mind 
taking  leave  of  this  world,  breaking  off  the  connections 
of  his  heart  from  it,  and  preparing  for  his  last  remove 
into  that  world  in  which  he  must  reside,  not  for  a  few 
months  or  years  as  in  this,  but  through  a  boundless  ever- 
lasting duration.  Such  a  situation  requires  habitual, 
constant  thoughtfulness,  abstraction  from  the  world,  and 
serious  preparation  for  death  and  eternity.  But  when 
we  are  called,  as  we  frequently  are,  to  perform  the  last 
sad  offices  to  our  friends  and  neighbors  who  have  taken 
their  flight  a  little  before  us;  when  the  solemn  pomp 
and  horrors  of  death  strike  our  senses,  then  certainly  it 
becomes    us    to    be    unusually  thoughtful    and    serious. 

*  This  sermon  is  dated,  at  Mr.  Thompson's  funeral,  Februaryie,  1759. 


422  INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

Dying  beds,  the  last  struggles  and  groans  of  dissolving  na- 
ture, pale,  cold,  ghastly  corpses, 

"  The  knell,  the  shroud,  the  mattock,  and  the  grave  : 
The  deep  damp  vault,  the  darkness  aud  the  worm;" 

these  are  very  alarming  monitors  of  our  own  mortality  : 
these  out-preach  the  loudest  preacher ;  and  they  must 
be  deep  and  senseless  rocks,  and  not  men,  who  do  not 
hear  and  feel  their  voice.  Among  the  numberless  in- 
stances of  the  divine  skill  in  bringing  good  out  of  evil, 
this  is  one,  that  past  generations  have  sickened  and  died 
to  warn  their  successors.  One  here  and  there  also  is 
singled  out  of  our  neighborhood  or  families,  and  made 
an  example,  a  memento  mori,  to  us  that  survive,  to  rouse 
us  out  of  our  stupid  sleep,  to  give  us  the  signal  of  the 
approach  of  the  last  enemy,  death,  to  constrain  us  to  let 
go  our  eager  grasp  of  this  vain  world,  and  set  us  upon 
looking  out  and  preparing  for  another.  And  may  I  hope 
my  hearers  are  come  here  to-day  determined  to  make 
this  improvement  of  this  melancholy  occasion,  and  to  gain 
this  great  advantage  from  our  loss  %  To  this  I  call  you  as 
with  a  voice  from  the  grave ;  and  therefore  he  that  hath  ears 
to  hear^  let  him  hear. 

One  great  reason  of  men's  excessive  attachment  to 
the  present  state,  and  their  stupid  neglect  to  the  con- 
cerns of  eternity,  is  their  forming  too  high  an  esti- 
mate of  the  affixirs  of  time  in  comparison  with  those 
of  eternity.  While  the  important  realities  of  the 
eternal  world  are  out  of  view,  unthought  of,  and  disre- 
garded, as,  alas  !  they  generally  are  by  the  most  of  man- 
kind, what  mighty  things  in  their  esteem  are  the  rela- 
tions, the  joys  and  sorrows,  the  possessions  and  be- 
reavements, the  acquisitions  and  pursuits  of  this  life  1 
What  airs  of  importance  do  they  put  on  in  their  view  1 
How  do  they  engross  their  anxious  thoughts  and  cares, 
and  exhaust  their  strength  and  spirits  !  To  be  happy,  to 
be  rich,  to  be  great  and  honorable,  to  enjoy  your  tili  of 
pleasure  in  this  world,  is  not  this  a  great  matter,  the  main 
interest  in  many  of  you  ?  is  not  this  the  object  of  your 
ambition,  your  eager  desire  and  laborious  pursuit  ?  But 
to  consume  away  your  life  in  sickness  and  pain,  in  pov- 
erty and  disgrace,  in  abortive  schemes  and  disappointed 
pursuits,  what  a  serious  calamity,  what  a  huge  affliction 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  423 

is  this  in  your  esteem  ?  What  is  there  in  tnc  compass 
of  the  universe  that  you  are  so  much  afraid  of,  and  so 
cautiously  shunning  1  Whether  large  profits  or  losses 
in  trade  be  not  a  mightier  matter,  ask  the  busy  anxious 
merchant.  Whether  poverty  be  not  a  most  miserable 
state,  ask  the  poor  that  feel  it,  and  the  rich  that  fear  it. 
Whether  riches  be  not  a  very  important  happiness,  ask 
the  possessors ;  or  rather  ask  the  restless  pursuers  of 
them,  who  expect  still  greater  happiness  from  them  than 
those  that  are  taught  by  experience  can  flatter  them 
selves  with.  Whether  the  pleasures  of  the  conjugal 
state  are  not  great  and  delicate,  consult  the  few  happy 
pairs  here  and  there  who  enjoy  them.  Whether  the  loss 
of  an  affectionate  husband  and  a  tender  fother  be  not  a 
naost  afflictive  bereavement,  a  torturing  separation  of 
heart  from  heart,  or  rather  a  tearing  of  one's  heart  in 
pieces,  ask  the  mourning,  weeping  widow,  and  fatherless 
children,  when  hovering  round  his  dying-bed,  or  conduct- 
ing his  dear  remains  to  the  cold  grave.  In  short,  it  is 
evident  from  a  thousand  instances,  that  the  enjoyments, 
pursuits,  and  sorrows  of  this  life  are  mighty  matters  ! 
nay,  are  all  in  all  in  the  esteem  of  the  generality  of  man- 
kind. These  are  the  things  they  most  deeply  feel,  the 
things  about  which  they  are  chiefly  concerned,  and  which 
are  the  objects  of  their  strongest  passions. 

But  is  this  a  just  estimate  of  things  1  Are  the  aflairs 
of  this  world  then  indeed  so  interesting  and  all  impor- 
tant ?  Yes,  if  eternity  be  a  dream,  and  heaven  and  hell 
but  majestic  chimeras,  or  fairy  lands  ;  if  we  were  always 
to  live  in  this  world,  and  had  no  concern  with  anything 
beyond  it ;  if  the  joys  of  earth  were  the  highest  we  could 
hope  for,  or  its  miseries  the  most  terrible  we  could  fear, 
then  indeed  we  might  take  this  world  for  our  all,  and  re- 
gard its  affairs  as  the  most  important  that  our  nature  is 
capable  of.  But  this  I  saij,  brethren,  (and  I  pronounce  it 
as  the  echo  of  an  inspired  apostle's  voice)  this  I  say,  the 
time  is  short ;  the  time  of  life  in  which  we  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  these  afliiirs  is  a  short  contracted  span. 
Therefore  it  remaineth,  that  is,  this  is  the  iiiferenco  we 
should  draw  from  the  shortness  of  time,  theij  that  have 
wives,  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  arid  they  that  weep,  as 
though  they  wept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they 
rejoiced  not ;  and  they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed 


424  INDIFFERENCE    OF   LIFE    URGED 

not ;  and  they  that  use  this  world^  as  not  abusing  it,  or 
using  it  to  excess ;  for  the  fashion  of  this  world,  these 
tender  relations,  this  weeping  and  rejoicing,  this  buying, 
possessing,  and  using  this  world  passeth  away.  The 
phantom  will  soon  vanish,  the  shadow  will  soon  fly  off; 
and  they  that  have  wives  or  husbands  in  this  transitory 
life,  will  in  reality  be  as  though  they  had  none  ;  and 
they  that  weep  now,  as  though  they  wept  not ;  and  they 
that  now  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;  and  they 
that  now  buy,  possess  and  use  this  world,  as  though  they 
never  had  the  least  property  in  it.  This  is  the  solemn 
mortifying  doctrine  I  am  now  to  inculcate  upon  you  in  the 
further  illustration  of  the  several  parts  of  my  text ;  a 
doctrine  justly  alarming  to  the  lovers  of  this  world,  and  the 
neglecters  of  that  life  which  is  to  come. 

When  St.  Paul  pronounces  anything  with  an  unusual 
air  of  solemnity  and  authority  ;  and  after  the  formality  of 
an  introduction  to  gain  attention,  it  must  be  a  matter 
of  uncommon  weight,  and  worthy  of  the  most  serious 
regard.  In  this  manner  he  introduces  the  funeral  senti- 
ments in  my  text.  This  I  say,  brethren  ;  this  I  solemnly 
pronounce  as  the  mouth  of  God  :  this  I  declare  as  a  great 
truth  but  little  regarded  ;  and  which  therefore  there  is 
much  need  I  should  repeatedly  declare :  this  I  say  with 
all  the  authority  of  an  apostle,  a  messenger  from  heaven ; 
and  I  demand  your  serious  attention  to  what  I  am  going 
to  say. 

And  what  is  it  he  is  introducing  with  all  this  solemn 
formality  ?  Why,  it  is  an  old,  plain,  familiar  truth  uni- 
versally known  and  confessed,  namely,  that  the  time  of 
our  continuance  in  this  world  is  short.  But  why  so 
much  formality  in  introducing  such  a  common  plain 
truth  as  this  1  Because,  however  generally  it  be  known 
and  confessed,  it  is  very  rarely  regarded ;  and  it  re- 
quires more  than  even  the  most  solemn  address  of  an 
apostle  to  turn  the  attention  of  a  thoughtless  world  to  it. 
How  many  of  you,  my  brethren,  are  convinced  against 
your  wills  of  this  melancholy  truth,  and  yet  turn  every 
way  to  avoid  the  mortifying  thought,  are  always  uneasy 
when  it  forces  itself  upon  your  minds,  and  do  not  suffer  it 
to  have  a  proper  influence  upon  your  temper  and  practice, 
but  live  as  if  you  believed  the  time  of  life  were  long,  and 
even  everlasting  ]     O  !  when  will  the  happy  hour  come 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  425 

when  you  will  think  and  act  like  those  that  believe  that 
common  nncontro verted  truth,  that  the  time  of  life  is 
short  1  Then  you  would  no  longer  think  of  delays,  nor 
contrive  artifices  to  put  off  the  work  of  your  salvation ; 
then  you  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  such  negligent, 
or  languid,  feeble  endeavors  in  a  work  that  must  be  done, 
and  that  in  so  short  a  time. 

This  I  say,  my  brethren,  the  time  is  short:  the  time  of 
life  is  absolutely  short ;  a  span,  an  inch,  a  hair's  breadth. 
How  near  the  neighborhood  between  the  cradle  and  the 
grave !  How  short  the  journey  from  infancy  to  old 
age,  through  all  the  intermediate  stages  !  Let  the  few 
among  you  who  bear  the  marks  of  old  age  upon  you  in 
gray  hairs,  wrinkles,  weakness,  and  pains,  look  back  upon 
your  tiresome  pilgrimage  through  life,  and  does  it  not 
appear  to  you,  as  though  you  commenced  men  but  yes- 
terday ?  And  how  little  a  way  can  you  trace  it  back 
till  you  are  lost  in  the  forgotten  unconscious  days  of 
infancy,  or  in  that  eternal  non-existence  in  which  you 
lay  before  your  creation!  But  they  are  but  a  very  few 
that  drag  on  their  lives  through  seventy  or  ^ghty  years. 
Old  men  can  hardly  find  contemporaries  :  a  new  race 
has  started  up,  and  they  are  become  almost  strangers  in 
their  own  neighborhoods.  By  the  best  calculations  that 
have  been  made,  at  least  one  half  of  mankind  die  under 
seven  years  old.  They  are  little  particles  of  life,  sparks 
of  being  just  kindled  and  then  quenched,  or  rather  dis- 
missed from  their  suffocating  confinement  in  clay,  that 
they  may  aspire,  blaze  out,  and  mingle  with  their  kindred 
flames  in  the  eternal  world,  the  proper  region,  the  native 
element  of  spirits. 

And  how  strongly  does  the  shortness  of  this  life  prove 
the  certainty  of  another?  Would  it  be  worth  while, 
would  it  be  consistent  with  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
the  Deity,  to  send  so  many  infant  millions  of  reasonable 
creatures  into  this  world,  to  live  the  low  life  of  a  vege- 
table or  an  animal  for  a  few  moments,  or  days,  or  years, 
if  there  were  no  other  world  for  these  young  immortals 
to  remove  to,  in  which  their  powers  might  open,  enlarge, 
and  ripen?  Certainly  men  are  not  such  insects  of  a 
day  :  certainly  this  is  not  the  last  stage  of  human  na- 
ture :  certainly  there  is  an  eternity  ;  there  is  a  heaven 
and  a  hell : — otherwise  we   might   expostulate    with   our 


426  INDIFFERERENCE    OF    LIFE    URGED 

Maker,  as  David  once  did  upon  that  supposition,  Where- 
fore hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  ?     Ps.  Ixxxix.  47. 

In  that  awful  eternity  we  must  all  be  in  a  short  time. 
Yes,  my  brethren,  I  may  venture  to  prophesy  that,  in 
less  than  seventy  or  eighty  years,  the  most,  if  not  all 
this  assembly,  must  be  in  some  apartment  of  that  strange 
untried  world.  The  merry,  unthinking,  irreligious  mul- 
titude in  that  doleful  mansion  which  I  must  mention, 
grating  as  the  sound  is  to  their  ears,  and  that  is  hell  !* 
and  the  pious,  penitent,  believing  few  in  the  blissful  seats 
of  heaven.  There  we  shall  reside  a  long,  long  time 
indeed,  or  rather  through  a  long,  endless  eternity.  Which 
leads  me  to  add, 

That  the  time  of  life  is  short  absolutely  in  itself,  so 
especially  it  is  short  comparatively  ;  that  is,  in  compar- 
ison with  eternity.  In  this  comparison,  even  the  long 
life  of  Methuselah  and  the  antediluvians  shrink  into  a 
mere  point,  a  nothing.  Indeed  no  duration  of  time,  how- 
ever long,  will  bear  the  comparison.  Millions  of  mill- 
ions of  years !  as  many  years  as  the  sands  upon  the  sea- 
shore !  as  many  years  as  the  particles  of  dust  in  this  huge 
globe  of  earth ;  as  many  years  as  the  particles  of  matter 
in  the  vaster  heavenly  bodies  that  roll  above  us,  and  even 
in  the  whole  material  universe,  all  these  years  do  not 
bear  so  much  proportion  to  eternity  as  a  moment,  a  pulse, 
or  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  to  ten  thousand  ages !  not  so 
much  as  a  hair's  breadth  to  the  distance  from  the  spot 
where  we  stand  to  the  farthest  star,  or  the  remotest  cor- 
ner of  creation.  In  short,  they  do  not  bear  the  least 
imaginable  proportion  at  all ;  for  all  this  length  of  years, 
though  beyond  the  power  of  distinct  enumeration  to  us,  will 
as  certainly  come  to  an  end  as  an  hour  or  a  moment ;  and 
when  it  comes  to  an  end,  it  is  entirely  and  irrecoverably 
past ;  but  eternity  (O  the  solemn  tremendous  sound  !)  eter- 
nity will  never,  never,  never  come  to  an  end  !  eternity  will 
never,  never,  never  be  past ! 

And  is  this  eternity,  this  awful  all-important  eternity, 
entailed  upon  us  I  upon  us,  the  offspring  of  the  dust !  the 

Regions  of  sorrow  !  doleful  shades  ?  where  Peace 
And  rest  can  never  dwell !     Hope  never  comes 
That  coniLH  to  all !     but  torture  without  end 

Still  urges,  and  a  fiery  deluge  fed 

With  ever-buruing  sulphur  unconsum'd.  Miltos. 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  427 

creatures  of  yesterday !  upon  us,  who  a  little  while  ago 
were  less  than  a  gnat,  less  than  a  inote,  were  nothing! 
upon  us  who  are  every  moment  liable  to  the  arrest  of 
death,  sinking  into  the  grave,  and  mouldering  into  dust 
one  after  another  in  a  thick  succession !  upon  us  whose 
thoughts  and  cares,  and  pursuits  are  so  confined  to  time 
and  earth,  as  if  we  had  nothing  to  do  with  anything  be- 
yond !  O  !  is  this  immense  inheritance  unalienably  ours? 
Yes,  brethren,  it  is ;  reason  and  revelation  prove  our 
title  beyond  all  dispute.  It  is  an  inheritance  entailed 
upon  us,  whether  we  will  or  not ;  whether  we  have  made 
it  our  interest  it  should  be  ours  or  not.  To  command 
ourselves  into  nothing  is  as  much  above  our  power  as  to 
bring  ourselves  into  being.  Sin  may  make  our  souls 
miserable,  but  it  cannot  make  them  mortal.  Sin  may 
forfeit  a  happy  eternity,  and  render  our  immortality  a 
curse ;  so  that  it  would  be  better  for  us  if  we  never  had 
been  born ;  but  sin  cannot  put  an  end  to  our  being,  as  it 
can  to  our  happiness,  nor  procure  for  us  the  shocking 
relief  of  rest  in  the  hideous  gulf  of  annihilation. 

And  is  a  little  time,  a  few  months  or  years,  a  great 
matter  to  us  1  to  us  who  are  heirs  of  an  eternal  duration  ? 
How  insignificant  is  a  moment  in  seventy  or  eighty 
years!  but  how  much  more  insignificant  is  even  the 
longest  life  upon  earth,  when  compared  with  eternity  ! 
How  trifling  are  all  the  concerns  of  time  to  those  of  im- 
mortality !  What  is  it  to  us  who  are  to  live  for  ever, 
whether  we  live  happy  or  miserable  for  an  hour  ?  whether 
we  have  wives,  or  whether  we  have  none;  whether  we 
rejoice,  or  whether  we  weep ;  whether  we  buy,  possess, 
and  use  this  world,  or  whether  we  consume  away  our  life 
in  hunger,  and  nakedness,  and  the  want  of  all  things,  it 
will  be  all  one  in  a  little,  little  time.  Eternity  will  level 
all ;  and  eternity  is  at  the  door. 

And  how  shall  we  spend  this  eternal  duration  that  is 
thus  entailed  upon  us  1  Shall  we  sleep  it  away  in  a  stu- 
pid insensibility  or  in  a  state  of  indifierency,  neither  hap- 
py nor  miserable  ?  No,  no,  my  brethren  ;  we  must  spend 
it  in  the  height  of  happiness  or  in  the  depth  of  misery. 
The  happint'ss  and  misery  of  the  world  to  come  will  not 
consist  in  such  childish  toys  as  those  that  give  us  pleas- 
ure and  pain  in  this  infant  state  of  our  existence,  but  in 
the  most  substantial  realities  suitable  to  an  immortal  spi- 


428  INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

rit,  capable  of  vast  improvements  and  arrived  at  its  adult 
age.  Now,  as  the  apostle  illustrates  it,  we  are  children, 
and  we  speak  like  children,  we  understand  like  children ; 
but  then  we  shall  become  men,  and  put  away  childish 
things.  1  Cor.  xiii.  11.  Then  we  shall  be  beyond  re- 
ceiving pleasure  or  pain  from  such  trifles  as  excite  them 
in  this  puerile  state.  This  is  not  the  place  of  rewards  or 
punishments,  and  therefore  the  great  Ruler  of  the  world 
does  not  exert  his  perfections  in  the  distribution  of 
either ;  but  eternity  is  allotted  for  that  very  purpose,  and 
therefore  he  will  then  distribute  rewards  and  punish- 
ments worthy  himself,  such  as  will  proclaim  him  God  in 
acts  of  grace  and  vengeance,  as  he  has  appeared  in  all 
his  other  works.  Then  he  will  show  his  wrath,  and  make 
his  power  knoivn  on  the  vessels  of  wrath  who  have  made 
themselves  Jit  for  destruction  and  nothing  else;  and  he 
will  show  the  riches  of  the  glory  of  his  grace  upon  the  ves- 
sels of  mercy  ivhom  he  prepared  beforehand  for  glory.  Rom. 
ix.  22,  23.  Thus  heaven  and  hell  will  proclaim  the  God, 
will  show  him  to  be  the  Author  of  their  respective  joys 
and  pains,  by  their  agreeable  or  terrible  magniiicence 
and  grandeur.  O  eternity !  with  what  majestic  wonders 
art  thou  replenished,  where  Jehovah  acts  with  his  own 
immediate  hand,  and  displays  himself  God-like  and  un- 
rivalled, in  his  exploits  both  of  vengeance  and  of  grace ! 
In  this  present  state,  our  good  and  evil  are  blended ;  our 
happiness  has  some  bitter  ingredients,  and  our  miseries 
have  some  agreeable  mitigations;  but  in  the  eternal 
world  good  and  evil  shall  be  entirely  and  for  ever  sepa- 
rated ;  all  will  be  pure,  unmingled  happiness,  or  pure 
unmingled  misery.  In  the  present  state  the  best  have 
not  uninterrupted  peace  within ;  conscience  has  frequent 
cause  to  make  them  uneasy ;  some  mote  or  other  falls 
into  its  tender  eye,  and  sets  it  a  weeping ;  and  the  worst 
also  have  their  arts  to  keep  conscience  sometimes  easy, 
and  silence  its  clamors.  But  then  conscience  will  have 
its  tuil  scope.  It  will  never  more  pass  a  censure  upon 
the  righteous,  and  it  will  never  more  be  a  friend,  or  even 
ail  inactive  enemy  to  the  wicked  for  so  much  as  one  mo- 
ment. And  O  what  a  perennial  fountain  of  bliss  or  pain 
will  conscience  then  be !  Society  contributes  much  to 
our  happiness  or  misery.  But  what  misery  can  be  felt 
or  tlared  in  the  immediate  presence  and  fellowship  of  the 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  429 

blessed  God  and  Jesus  (the  friend  of  man) ;  of  angels 
and  saints,  and  all  the  glorious  natives  of  heaven !  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  what  happiness  can  be  enjoyed  or 
hoped  for,  what  misery  can  be  escaped  in  the  liorrid  so- 
ciety of  lost  abandoned  ghost  of  the  angelic  and  hu- 
man nature ;  dreadfully  mighty  and  malignant,  and  re- 
joicing only  in  each  other's  misery ;  mutual  enemies, 
and  mutual  tormentors,  bound  together  inseparably  in 
everlasting  chains  of  darkness !  O  the  horror  of  the 
thought !  in  short,  even  a  heathen*  could  say, 

"  Had  I  a  hundred  tongues,  a  hundred  mouths 
An  iron  voice,  I  could  not  comprehend 
The  various  forms  and  punishments  of  vice.' 

The  most  terrible  images  which  even  the  pencil  of  di- 
vme  inspiration  can  draw,  such  as  "a  lake  of  fire  and 
brimstone,  utter  darkness,  the  blackness  of  darkness,  a 
never  dying  worm,  unquenchable  everlasting  fire,"  and 
all  the  most  dreadful  figures  that  can  be  drawn  from  all 
parts  of  the  universe,  are  not  sufiicient  to  represent  the 
punishments  of  the  eternal  world.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  eye,  which  has  ranged  through  so  many  objects, 
has  not  seen;  ^/^e  ear,  which  has  had  still  more  extensive 
intelligence,  has  not  heard ;  nor  has  the  heart,  which  is 
even  unbounded  in  its  conceptions,  conceived  the  things 
that  God  hath  laid  up  for  them  that  love  him.  The  enjoy- 
ments of  time  fall  as  much  short  of  those  of  eternity,  as 
time  itself  falls  short  of  eternity  itself. 

But  what  gives  infinite  importance  to  these  joys  and 
sorrows  is,  that  they  are  enjoyed  or  suffered  in  the 
eternal  world,  they  are  themselves  eternal.  Eternal 
joys !  eternal  pains !  joys  and  pains  that  will  last  as  long 
as  the  King  eternal  and  immortal  will  live  to  distribute 
them!  as  long  as  our  immortal  spirits  will  live  to  feel 
them  !     O  what  joys  and  pains  are  these  ! 

And  these,  my  brethren,  are  awaiting  every  one  of  us. 
These  pleasures,  or  these  pains,  are  felt  this  moment  by 
such  of  our  friends  and  acquaintance  as  have  shot   the 

*  Non  mihi  si  Hnguaj  centum  sint,  oraque  centum, 
Ferrea  vox,  omnes  scelerum  comprendere  formas, 
Omnia  pojnarum  percurrcre  nomina  possum 

Vino.  ^n.  VI.  I.  625. 


430  INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

gulf  before  us;  and  in  a  little,  little  while,  you  and  I 
must  feel  them. 

And  what  then  have  we  to  do  with  time  and  earth? 
Are  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  this  world  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  these  1  "  Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vani- 
ty ;"  the  enjoyments  and  sufferings,  the  labors  and  pur- 
suits, the  laughter  and  tears  of  the  present  state,  are  all 
nothing  in  this  comparison.  What  is  the  loss  of  an 
estate  or  of  a  dear  relative  to  the  loss  of  a  happy  immor- 
tality ?  But  if  our  heavenly  inheritance  be  secur-e,  what 
though  we  should  be  reduced  into  Job's  forlorn  situation, 
we  have  enough  left  more  than  to  fill  up  all  deficiencies. 
What  though  we  are  poor,  sickly,  melancholy,  racked 
with  pains,  and  involved  in  every  human  misery,  heaven 
will  more  than  make  amends  for  all.  But  if  we  have  no 
evidences  of  our  title  to  that,  the  sense  of  these  transi- 
tory distresses  may  be  swallowed  up  in  the  just  fear  of 
the  miseries  of  eternity.  Alas !  what  avails  it  that  we 
play  away  a  few  years  in  mirth  and  gaiety,  in  grandeur 
and  pleasure,  if  when  these  few  years  are  tied,  we  lift  up 
our  eyes  in  hell,  tormented  in  flames !  O  what  are  all 
these  things  to  a  candidate  for  eternity !  an  heir  of  ever- 
lasting happiness,  or  everlasting  misery  ! 

It  is  from  such  convictive  premises  as  these  that  St,. 
Paul  draws  his  inference  in  my  text:  "It  remaineth 
therefore  that  they  that  have  wives  be  as  though  they 
had  none ;  and  they  that  weep,  as  though  they  wept  not ; 
and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though  they  rejoiced  not;  and 
they  that  buy,  as  though  they  possessed  not;  and  they 
that  use  this  world  as  not  abusing  it." 

The  first  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the  dear 
and  tender  relations  that  we  sustain  in  this  life.  It  re^ 
maineth  that  those  that  have  wives,  and  by  a  parity  of  rea- 
son those  that  have  husbands,  parents,  children,  or  friends 
dear  as  their  own  souls,  be  as  though  they  had  none.  St. 
Paul  is  far  from  recommending  a  stoical  neglect  of  these 
dear  relations.  That  he  tenderly  felt  the  sensations,  and 
warmly  recommended  the  mutual  duties  of  such  rela- 
tions, appears  in  the  strongest  light  in  other  parts  of  his 
writings,  where  he  is  addressing  himself  to  husbands  and 
wives,  parents  and  children.  But  his  design  here  is  to 
represent  the  insignificancy  even  of  these  dear  relations, 
considering  how  short  and  vanishing  they  are,  and  com- 


I'KOM    ITS    SHOKTNESS    AND    VANITi'.  431 

paring  them  with  the  infinite  concerna  of  eternity.  These 
dear  ereatures  we  shall  be  able  to  call  our  own  lor  so 
short  a  time,  that  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  esteem  them 
ours  now.  The  concerns  of  eternity  are  of  so  much 
greater  moment,  that  it  is  very  little  matter  whether  we 
enjoy  these  comforts  or  not.  In  a  few  years  at  most, 
it  will  be  all  one.  The  dear  ties  that  now  unite  the 
hearts  of  husband  and  wife,  parent  and  child,  friend  and 
friend,  will  be  broken  forever.  In  that  world  where  we 
must  all  be  in  a  little,  little  time,  they  neither  marry  nor 
are  given  in  marriage;  but  are  in  this  respect  like  the 
angels.  And  of  how  small  consequence  is  it  to  creatures 
that  are  to  exist  forever  in  the  most  perfect  happiness 
or  misery,  and  that  must  so  soon  break  olV  all  their  ten- 
der connections  with  the  dear  creatures  that  were  united 
to  their  hearts  in  the  present  transitory  state  !  of  how  small 
consequence  is  it  to  such,  whether  they  spend  a  few  years 
of  their  existence  in  all  the  delights  of  the  conjugal  state 
and  the  social  life,  or  are  forlorn,  bereaved,  destitute, 
widowed,  childless,  latherless,  friendless!  The  grave 
and  eternity  will  level  all  these  little  inequalities.  The 
dust  of  Job  has  no  more  sense  of  his  past  calamities, 
than  that  of  Solomon  who  felt  so  few ;  and  their  immor- 
tal parts  are  equally  happy  in  heaven,  if  they  were  equal- 
ly holy  upon  earth.  *^  And  of  how  small  consequence  is  it 
to  Judas  now,  after  he  has  been  above  seventeen  hun- 
dred years  in  his  own  place,  whether  he  died  single  or 
married,  a  parent  or  childless '?  This  makes  no  distinc- 
tion in  heaven  or  hell,  unless  that,  as  relations  increase, 
the  duties  belonging  to  them  are  multiplied,  and  the  trust 
becomes  the  heavier ;  the  discharge  of  which  meets  with  a 
more  glorious  reward  in  heaven,  and  the  neglect  of  which 
suffers  a  severer  punishment  in  hell. 

Farther,  the  apostle,  in  saying  that  they  who  have  wives 
should  be  as  though  they  had  none,  intends  that  we  should, 
not  excessively  set  our  hearts  upon  any  of  our  dearest 
relatives  so  as  to  tempt  us  to  neglect  the  superior  con- 
cerns of  the  world  to  come,  or  draw  off  our  affections 
from  God.  We  should  always  remember  who  it  was 
that  said,  "  He  that  loveth  father,  or  mother,  or  wife,  or 
children,  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me."  "  He 
that  is  married,"  says  St.  Paul,  in  the  context,  "  careth 
for  the  things  of  the  world,  how  he  may  please  his  wife," 


432  INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

verse  83.  But  we  should  beware  lest  this  care  should 
run  to  excess,  and  render  us  careless  of  the  interests  of 
our  souls,  and  the  concerns  of  immortality.  To  mod- 
erate excessive  care  and  anxiety  about  the  things  of  this 
world  is  the  design  the  apostle  has  immediately  in  view 
in  my  text ;  for  having  taught  "  those  that  have  wives 
to  be  as  though  they  had  none,"  &c.,  he  immediately 
adds,  "I  would  have  you  without  carefulness;"  and  this 
is  the  reason  why  I  would  have  you  form  such  an  esti- 
mate of  all  the  conditions  of  life,  and  count  them  as  on 
a  level.  Those  that  have  the  agreeable  weights  of  these 
relations  ought  no  more  to  abandon  themselves  to  the 
over-eager  pursuit  of  this  world,  or  place  their  happiness 
in  it ;  ought  no  more  to  neglect  the  concerns  of  religion 
and  eternity,  than  if  they  did  not  bear  these  relations. 
The  busy  head  of  a  numerous  family  is  as  much  con- 
cerned to  secure  his  everlasting  interest  as  a  single  man. 
Whatever  becomes  of  him  and  his  in  this  vanishing 
world,  he  must  by  no  means  neglect  to  provide  for  his 
subsistence  in  the  eternal  world;  and  nothing  in  this 
world  can  at  ail  excuse  that  neglect. 

O  that  these  thouglits  may  deeply  affect  the  hearts  of 
such  of  us  as  are  agreeably  connected  in  such  relations ! 
and  may  they  inspire  us  with  a  proper  insensibility  and 
indifference  towards  them  when  compared  with  the  af- 
fairs of  religion  and  eternity !  May  this  consideration 
moderate  the  sorrows  of  the  mourners  on  this  melan- 
choly occasion,  and  teach  them  to  esteem  the  gain  or 
loss  of  a  happy  eternity  as  that  which  should  swallow  up 
every  other  concern ! 

The  next  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the  sorrows 
of  life.  "  It  remaineth  that  they  that  weep  be  as  if  they 
wept  not."  Whatever  afflictions  may  befall  us  here, 
they  will  not  last  long,  but  will  soon  be  swallowed  up  in 
the  greater  joys  or  sorrows  of  the  eternal  world.  These 
tears  will  not  always  flow;  these  sighs  will  not  always 
heave  our  breasts.  We  can  sigh  no  longer  than  the 
vital  breath  inspires  our  lungs;  and  we  can  weep  no 
longer  than  till  death  stops  all  the  fountains  of  our  tears ; 
and  that  Avill  be  in  a  very  little  time.  And  when  we 
enter  into  the  eternal  world,  if  we  have  been  the  duti- 
ful children  of  God  here,  his  own  gentle  hand  shall  wipe 
away  every  tear  from  our  faces,  and   he  will  comfort  the 


FIIOM    ITS    SIIOKTNESS    AND    VANITV.  433 

mourners.  Then  all  the  sorrows  of  liic  will  cease  ibrcver, 
and  no  more  painful  remembrance  of  them  will  remain 
than  of  the  pains  and  sickness  of  our  unconscious  iii- 
foncy.  But  if  all  the  discipline  of  our  Heavenly  Father 
fails  to  reduce  us  to  our  duty,  if  we  still  continue  re- 
bellious and  incorrigible  under  his  rod,  and  consequently 
the  miseries  of  this  life  convey  us  to  those  of  the  future, 
the  smaller  will  be  swallowed  up  and  lost  in  the  greater  as 
a  drop  in  the  ocean.  Some  desperate  sinners  have  hard- 
ened themselves  in  sin  with  this  cold  comfort,  "  That  since 
they  must  be  miserable  hereafter,  they  will  at  least  take 
their  fill  of  pleasure  here,  and  take  a  merry  journey  to 
hell."  But,  alas  !  what  a  sorry  mitigation  will  this  be  ! 
how  entirely  will  all  this  career  of  pleasure  be  forgot- 
ten at  the  first  pang  of  infernal  anguish  !  O  !  what  poor 
relief  to  a  soul  lost  forever,  to  reflect  that  this  eternity 
of  pain  followed  upon  and  was  procured  by  a  few  months 
or  years  of  sordid  guilty  pleasure !  Was  that  a  relief 
or  an  aggravation  which  Abraham  mentions  to  his  lost 
son,  when  he  puts  him  in  mind,  "  Son,  remember  that 
thou  in  thy  life  time,  receivedst  thy  goo;l  things"  ] 
Luke  xvi.  25.  Thou  hadst  then  all  the  share  of  good 
which  thou  ever  shalt  enjoy  ;  thou  hadst  thy  portion  in 
that  Avorld  where  thou  didst  choose  to  have  it,  and  there- 
fore stand  to  the  consequences  of  thine  own  ciioice,  and 
look  for  no  other  portion.  O  !  who  can  bear  to  be 
thus  reminded  and  upbraided  in  the  midst  of  remediless 
misery  ! 

Upon  the  whole,  whatever  afflictions  or  bereavements 
we  suffer  in  this  world,  let  us  moderate  our  sorrows  and 
keep  them  within  bounds.  Let  them  not  work  up  and 
ferment  into  murmurings  and  insurrections  against  God, 
who  gives  and  takes  away,  and  blessed  be  his  name ! 
Let  them  not  sink  us  into  a  sullen  dislike  of  the  mercies 
still  left  in  our  possession.  How  unreasonable  and  un- 
grateful, that  God's  retaking  one  of  his  mercies  should 
tempt  us  to  despise  all  the  rest !  Take  a  view  of  the 
rich  inventory  of  blessings  still  remaining,  and  you  will 
find  them  much  more  numerous  and  important  than 
those  you  have  lost.  Do  not  mistake  me,  as  if  I  recom- 
mended or  expected  an  utter  insensibility  under  the 
calamities  of  life.  I  allow  nature  its  moderate  tears; 
but  let  them  not  rise  to  floods  of  inconsolable  sorrows  ;  I 


434  INDIFFERENCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

allow  you  to  feel  your  afflictions  like  men  and  Christians, 
but  then  you  must  bear  them  like  men  and  Christians  too. 
May  God  grant  that  we  may  all  exemplify  this  direction 
when  ^YQ  are  put  to  the  trial. 

The  third  branch  of  the  inference  refers  to  the  joys 
and  pleasures  of  life.  "  The  time  is  short ;  it  remaineth 
therefore  that  they  that  rejoice  be  as  if  they  rejoiced 
not ;"  that  is,  the  joys  of  this  life,  from  whatever  earthly 
cause  they  spring,  are  so  short  and  transitory,  that  they 
are  as  of  no  account  to  a  creature  that  is  to  exist  for- 
ever ;  to  exist  forever  in  joys  or  pains  of  an  infinitely 
higher  and  more  important  kind.  To  such  a  creature  it 
is  an  indifterency  whether  he  laughs  or  weeps,  w^hether 
he  is  joyful  or  sad,  for  only  a  few  fleeting  moments. 
These  vanishing,  uncertain  joys  should  not  engross  our 
hearts  as  our  chief  happiness,  nor  cause  us  to  neglect 
and  forfeit  the  divine  and  everlasting  joys  above  the 
skies.  The  pleasure  we  receive  from  any  created  en- 
joyment should  not  ensnare  us  to  make  it  our  Idol,  to 
forget  that  we  must  part  with  it,  or  to  fret,  and  murmur, 
and  repine,  when  the  parting  hour  comes.  When  we 
are  rejoicing  in  the  abundance  of  earthly  blessings,  we 
should  be  as  careful  and  laborious  in  securing  the  favor 
of  God  and  everlasting  happiness  as  if  we  rejoiced  not. 
If  our  eternal  All  is  secure,  it  is  enough ;  and  it  will  not 
at  all  be  heightened  or  diminished  by  the  reflection  that 
we  lived  a  joyful  or  a  sad  life  in  this  pilgrimage.  But  if 
we  spend  our  immortality  in  misery,  what  sorry  comfort 
will  it  be  that  we  laughed,  and  played,  and  frolicked  away 
a  few  years  upon  earth"?  years  that  were  given  us  for 
a  serious  purpose,  as  a  space  for  repentance  and  prepara- 
tion for  eternity.  Therefore,  let  "  those  that  rejoice  be 
as  though  they  rejoiced  not ;"  that  is,  be  nobly  indiffer- 
ent to  all  the  little  amusements  and  pleasures  of  so  short  a 
life. 

And  let  "  those  that  buy  be  as  if  they  possessed  not." 
This  is  the  fourth  particular  in  the  inference  from  the 
shortness  of  time,  and  it  refers  to  the  trade  and  business 
of  life.  It  refers  not  only  to  the  busy  merchant,  whose 
life  is  a  vicissitude  of  buying  and  selling,  but  also  to  the 
planter,  the  tradesman,  and  indeed  to  every  man  among 
us  ;  for  we  are  all  carrying  on  a  commerce,  more  or 
less  for  the  purposes  of  this  life.     You  all  buy,  and  sell, 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITV.  435 

and  exchange,  in  some  form  or  other  ;  and  the  things  of 
this  world  are  perpetually  passing  from  hand  to  hand. 
Sometimes  you  have  good  bargains,  and  make  large  ac- 
quisitions. But  set  not  your  hearts  upon  them  ;  but  in 
the  midst  of  all  your  possessions,  live  as  if  you  possess- 
ed them  not.  Alas  !  of  what  small  account  are  all  the 
things  you  call  your  own  upon  earth,  to  you  who  are  to 
stay  here  so  short  a  time ;  to  you  who  must  so  soon  bid 
an  eternal  flirewell  to  them  all,  and  go  as  naked  out  of 
the  world  as  you  came  into  it ;  to  you  who  must  spend 
an  everlastmg  duration  far  beyond  the  reach  of  all  these 
enjoyments?  It  is  not  worth  your  while  to  call  them 
your  own,  since  you  must  so  soon  resign  them  to  other 
hands.  The  melancholy  occasion  of  this  day  may  con- 
vince you,  that  success  in  trade,  and  a  plentiful  estate, 
procured  and  kept  by  industry  and  good  management,  is 
neither  a  security  against  death,  nor  a  comfort  in  it. 
Alas !  what  service  can  these  houses  and  lands,  and  nu- 
merous domestics,  perform  to  the  cold  clay  that  moulders 
in  yonder  grave,  or  to  the  immortal  spirit  that  is  fled  we 
know  not  where  ?  Therefore  buy,  sensible  that  you  can 
buy  nothing  upon  a  sure  and  lasting  title ;  nothing  that 
you  can  certainly  call  yours  to-morrow.  Buy,  but  do 
not  sell  your  hearts  to  the  trifles  you  buy,  and  let  them 
not  tempt  you  to  act  as  if  this  were  your  final  home, 
or  to  neglect  to  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heav- 
en ;  treasures  which  you  can  call  your  own  when  this 
world  is  laid  in  ashes,  and  which  you  can  enjoy  and  live 
upon  in  what  I  may  call  an  angelic  state,  when  these  bod- 
ies have  nothmg  but  a  coffin,  a  shroud,  and  a  few  feet  of 
earth. 

Finally,  let  "  those  that  use  this  world  use  it  as  not 
abusing  it."  This  is  the  fifth  branch  of  the  inference 
from  the  shortness  of  time ;  and  it  seems  to  have  a  par- 
ticular reference  to  such  as  have  had  such  success  in 
their  pursuit  of  the  world,  that  they  have  now  retired 
from  business,  and  appear  to  themselves  to  have  nothing 
to  do  but  enjoy  the  world,  for  which  they  so  long  toiled. 
Or  it  may  refer  to  those  who  are  born  heirs  of  plentiful 
estates,  and  therefore  are  not  concerned  to  acquire  the 
world,  but  to  use  and  enjoy  it.  To  such  I  say,  "  Use 
this  world  as  not  abusing  it;"  thjxt  is,  use  it,  enjoy  it, 
take   moderate  pleasure  in   it,  but  do  not  abuse   it  by 


436  INDIFFEREXC3  TO     LIFS    URGED 

prostituting  it  to  sinful  purposes,  making  provision  for  the 
flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof,  indulging  yourselves  in  de- 
bauchery and  extravagance,  placing  your  confidence  in  it, 
and  singing  a  requiem  to  your  souls  :  "  Soul,  take  thine 
ease  ;  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  ;  for  thou  hast  much 
goods  laid  up  in  store  for  many  years."  O  !  presumptu- 
ous "  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  may  be  required  of  thee." 
Luke  xii.  19,  29.  Do  not  use  this  world  to  excess,*  (so 
the  word  may  be  translated,)  by  placing  your  hearts  ex- 
cessively upon  it  as  your  favorite  portion  and  principal 
happiness,  and  by  suffering  it  to  draw  off  your  thoughts 
and  affections  from  the  superior  blessedness  of  the  world 
to  come.  Use  the  world,  but  let  it  not  tempt  you  to  ex- 
cess in  eating,  drinking,  dress,  equipage,  or  in  any  article 
of  the  parade  of  riches.  Religion  by  no  means  enjoins  a 
sordid,  niggardly,  churlish  manner  of  living  ;  it  allows  you 
to  enjoy  the  blessings  of  life,  but  then  it  forbids  all  ex- 
cess, and  requires  you  to  keep  within  the  bounds  of  mod- 
eration in  your  enjoyments.  Thus  "  use  this  world  as  not 
abusing  it." 

The  apostle's  inference  is  not  only  drawn  from  strong 
premises,  but  also  enforced  with  a  very  weighty  reason ; 
"  for  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away."  The 
whole  scheme  and  system  of  worldly  affairs,  all  this 
marrying,  and  rejoicing,  and  weeping,  and  buying,  and 
enjoying,  passeth  away^  passeth  away  this  moment ;  it  not 
only  will  pass  away,  but  it  is  even  now  passing  away. 
The  stream  of  time,  with  all  the  trifles  that  float  on  it, 
and  all  the  eager  pursuers  of  these  bubbles,  is  in  mo- 
tion, in  swift,  incessant  motion,  to  empty  itself  and  all 
that  sail  upon  it  into  the  shoreless  ocean  of  eternity, 
where  all  will  be  absorbed  and  lost  forever.  And  shall 
we  excessively  doat  upon  things  that  are  perpetually 
flying  from  us,  and  in  a  little  time  will  be  no  more 
our  property  than  the  riches  of  the  world  before  the 
flood  '\  "  O  ye  sons  of  men,  how  long  will  ye  follow 
after  vanity "?  why  do  you  spend  your  money  for  that 
which  is  not  bread,  and  your  labor  for  that  which  profiteth 
not  V 

Some  critics  apprehend  this  sentence,  the  fashion  of 
this  world  passeth  away^  contains  a  fine  striking  allusion  to 

*  KaTaxp<^fJ.£vot.     So  it  is  rendered  by  Doddridge,  and  others. 


FROM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  437 

the  stage,  and  that  it  mi<i;ht  be  rendered,  "  the  scene  of 
this  world  passeth  away."  "  You  know,"  says  a  fine 
writer  upon  this  text,  "  that  upon  the  stage  the  actors 
assume  imaginary  characters,  and  appear  in  borrowed 
forms.  One  mimics  the  courage  and  triumphs  of  the 
hero  ;  another  appears  with  a  crown  and  a  sceptre,  and 
struts  about  with  all  the  solemnity  and  majesty  of  a 
prince  ;  a  third  puts  on  the  fawning  smile  of  a  courtier, 
or  the  haughtiness  of  a  successful  favorite  ;  and  the  fourth 
is  represented  in  the  dress  of  a  scholar  or  a  divine.  An 
hour  or  two  they  act  their  several  parts  on  the  stage,  and 
amuse  the  spectators  ;  but  the  scenes  are  constantly  shift- 
ing ;  and  when  the  play  is  concluded,  the  feigned  charac- 
ters are  laid  aside,  and  the  imaginary  kings  and  emper- 
ors are  immediately  divested  of  their  pretended  authority 
and  ensigns  of  royalty,  and  appear  in  their  native  mean- 
ness. 

"  Just  so  this  world  is  a  groat  stage  that  presents  as 
variable  scenes,  and  as  fantastical  characters  :  princes, 
politicians,  and  warriors,  the  rich,  the  learned,  and  the 
wise ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  poor,  weak,  and  de- 
spised part  of  mankind  possess  their  several  places  on 
the  theatre  ;  some  lurk  obscurely  in  a  corner,  seldom 
come  from  behind  the  scenes,  or  creep  along  unnoticed  ; 
others  make  a  splendid  show  and  a  loud  noise,  are  adorn- 
ed with  the  honors  of  a  crown,  or  possessed  of  large  estates 
and  great  powers ;  fill  the  world  with  the  glory  of  their 
names  and  actions,  conquer  in  the  field,  or  are  laboriously 
employed  in  the  cabinet.  Well,  in  a  little  time  the  scene 
is  shifted,  and  all  these  vain  phantoms  disappear.  The 
king  of  terrors  clears  the  stage  of  the  busy  actors,  strips 
them  of  all  their  fictitious  ornaments,  and  ends  the  vain 
farce  of  life  ;  and  being  brought  all  upon  a  level,  they  go 
down  to  the  grave  in  their  original  nakedness,  are  jum- 
bled together  undistinguished,  and  pass  away  as  a  tale 
that  is  told." 

Farther  :  "  Upon  the  Greek  or  Roman  theatres,  to 
which  the  apostle  alludes,  the  actors,  if  I  mistake  not, 
frequently,  if  not  always,  came  upon  the  stage  in  a  dis- 
guise, with  a  false  face,  which  was  adapted  to  the  differ- 
ent person  or  character  they  designed  to  assume  ;  so 
that  no  man  was  to  be  seen  with  his  real  face,  but  all 
put  on  borrowed  visages.     And   in  allusion  to  this,  tho 


438  INDIFFERNNCE    TO    LIFE    URGED 

text  might  be  rendered,  *  The  masquerade  of  the  world 
passeth  away,'  pointing  out  the  fraud  and  disguises  which 
mankind  put  on,  and  the  flattering  forms  in  which  they 
generally  appear,  which  will  all  pass  away  when  the  grave 
shall  pull  off  the  mask  ;  and  '  they  go  down  to  the  other 
world  naked  and  open,'  and  appear  at  the  supreme  tribu- 
nal in  their  due  characters,  '  and  can  no  more  be  varnished 
over  with  fraudulent  coloring.'  "* 

Others  apprehend,  the  apostle  here,  alludes  to  some  grand 
procession,  in  which  pageants  or  emblematical  figures  pass 
along  the  crowded  streets.  The  staring  crowd  wait  their 
appearance  with  eager  eyes,  and  place  themselves  in  the 
most  convenient  posture  of  observation  ;  they  gape  at  the 
passing  show,  they  follow  it  with  a  wondering  gaze  ; — and 
now  it  is  past,  and  now  it  begins  to  look  dim  to  the  sight, 
and  now  it  disappears.  Just  such  is  this  transitory  world. 
Thus  it  begins  to  attract  the  eager  gaze  of  mankind  ;  thus 
it  marches  by  in  swift  procession  from  our  eyes  to  meet 
the  eyes  of  others ;  and  thus  it  soon  vanishes  and  disap- 
pears, f 

And  shall  we  always  be  stupidly  staring  upon  this  empty 
parade,  and  forget  that  world  of  substantial  realities  to 
which  we  are  hastening  ?  No  ;  let  us  live  and  act  as  the 
expectants  of  that  world,  and  as  having  nothing  to  do  with 
this  world,  but  only  as  a  school,  a  state  of  discipline,  to 
educate  and  prepare  us  for  another. 

O  !  that  I  could  successfully  impress  this  exhortation 
upon  all  your  hearts  !  O  !  that  I  could  prevail  upon  you 
all  this  day  to  break  off  your  overfond  attachment  to 
earth,  and  to  make  ready  for  immortality  !  Could  I  carry 
this  point,  it  would  be  a  greater  advantage  than  all  the 
dead  could  receive  from  any  funeral  panegyrics  from  me. 


*  Dunlop's  Sermons,  Vol.  I.  p.  215. 

t  Tims  Dr.  Doddridge  understands  the  text,  Family  Expositor,  in  loc. 
and  tl)ua  he  beautifully  describes  it  in  his  Hymns  : 

"  The  empty  pageant  rolls  along  ; 
The  giddy  inexperienc'd  throng 
Pursue  it  with  enchanted  eyes  ; 
It  pas.seth  in  swift  march  away, 
Still  more  and  more  its  charms  decay. 
Till  the  last  gaudy  colors  dies."     See  Hymn  268. 

Lucian  has  the  best  illustration  of  this  passage,  in  this  view,  that  I  have 
seen.     Dialogue  XXXII.  Murphy's  Edit. 


FEOM    ITS    SHORTNESS    AND    VANITY.  439 

I  speak  for  the  advantage  of  the  living  upon  such  occa- 
sions, and  not  to  celehrate  the  virtues  of  those  who  have 
passed  the  trial,  and  received  their  sentence  from  the 
supreme  Judge.  And  I  am  well  satisfied  the  mourning 
relatives  of  our  deceased  friend,  who  best  knew  and  es- 
teemed his  worth,  would  be  rather  offended  than  pleased, 
if  I  should  prostitut-e  the  present  hour  to  so  mean  a  pur- 
pose. Indeed,  many  a  character  less  worthy  of  praise, 
often  makes  a  shining  figure  in  funeral  sermon^.  Many 
that  have  not  been  such  tender  husbands,  such  affection- 
ate fathers,  such  kind  masters,  such  sincere  upright 
friends,  so  honest  and  punctual  in  trade,  such  zealous 
lovers  of  religion  and  good  men,  have  had  their  putrefy- 
ing remains  perfumed  with  public  praise  from  a  place  so 
solemn  as  the  pulpit ;  but  you  can  witness  for  me,  it  is 
not  my  usual  foible  to  run  to  this  extreme.  My  business 
is  with  you,  who  are  as  yet  alive  to  hear  me.  To  you  I 
call,  as  with  the  voice  of  your  deceased  friend  and  neigh- 
bor,— Prepare  !  prepare  for  eternity  !  O  !  if  the  spirits 
that  you  once  knew,  while  clothed  in  flesh,  should  take 
my  place,  would  not  this  be  their  united  voice,  "  Prepare, 
prepare  for  eternity !  ye  frail  short-lived  mortals !  ye 
near  neighbors  of  the  world  of  spirits  !  ye  borderers  upon 
heaven  or  hell,  make  ready,  loosen  your  hearts  from 
earth,  and  all  that  it  contains  :  weigh  anchor,  and  prepare 
to  launch  away  into  the  boundless  ocean  of  eternity, 
which  methinks  is  now  within  your  ken,  and  roars  with- 
in hearing."  And  remember,  "  this  I  say,  brethren," 
with  great  confidence,  "  the  time  is  short :  it  remaineth 
therefore,"  for  the  future — •"  that  they  that  have  wives, 
be  as  if  they  had  none  ;  and  they  that  weep,  as  if  they 
w^ept  not ;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  if  they  rejoiced  not ; 
and  they  that  buy,  as  if  they  possessed  not ;  and  they 
that  use  this  world,  as  not  abusing  it ;  for  the  fashion  of 
this  world,"  all  its  schemes  of  attliirs,  all  the  vain  pa- 
rade, all  the  idle  larce  of  life,  "  passeth  away."  And 
away  let  it  pass,  if  we  may  at  last  obtain  a  better  coun- 
try ;  that  is,  a  heavenly  :  which  may  God  grant  for 
Jesus'  sake  !     Amen. 


440  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST   CRUCIFIED 


SERMOIST    XXIV. 

THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED    THE    MEAN    OF 
SALVATION. 

Cor.  I.  22-24. — For  the  Jews  require  a  sign,  and  the 
Greeks  seek  after  ivisdom  ;  but  we  preach  Christ  crucified, 
unto  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  unto  the  Greeks  fool- 
ishness ;  but  unto  them  which  are  called,  both  Jews  and 
Greeks,  Christ  the  power  of  God,  and  the  ivisdom  of 
God. 

If  we  should  consider  Christianity  only  as  an  improve- 
ment of  natural  religion,  containing  a  complete  system 
of  morality,  and  prescribing  a  pure  plan  of  worship,  it  is 
a  matter  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  worthy  of  uni- 
versal acceptance.  In  the  one  view,  it  is  necessary  to 
inform  the  world  in  matters  of  sin  and  duty,  and  reform 
their  vicious  practices  ;  and  in  the  other,  to  put  an  end 
to  that  foolish  and  barbarous  superstition  which  had 
over-run  the  earth,  under  the  notion  of  religious  wor- 
ship. And  these  ends  the  Christian  religion  fully  an- 
swers. Never  was  there  such  a  finished  system  of 
morality,  or  such  a  spiritual  and  divine  model  of  wor- 
ship invented  or  revealed,  as  by  the  despised  Galilean, 
and  the  twelve  fishermen  that  received  their  instructions 
from  him. 

But  this  is  not  the  principal  excellency  of  the  gospel ; 
and  did  it  carry  its  discoveries  no  farther,  alas  !  it  would 
be  far  from  revealing  a  suitable  religion  for  sinners.  A 
religion  for  sinners  must  reveal  a  method  of  salvation  for 
the  lost,  of  pardon  for  the  guilty,  and  of  sanctifying 
grace  for  the  weak  and  wicked.  And,  blessed  be  God, 
the  gospel  answers  this  end ;  and  it  is  its  peculiar 
excellency  that  it  does  so.  It  is  its  peculiar  excel- 
lency that  it  publishes  a  crucified  Christ  as  an  all-suffi- 
cient Saviour  to  a  guilty,  perishing  world.  It  is  its  glori- 
ous peculiarity  that  it  reveals  a  method  of  salvation  cver^ 
way  honorable  to  God  and  his  government,  and  every 
way  suitable  to  our  necessities ;  and  that  is,  by  the  suf 
ferings  of  Christ,  the  Founder  of  this  religion.  This  is 
the   ground,  the  subst;inco,   and   marrow   of  the  gospel ; 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  441 

and  it  is  this,  above  all  other  things,  tliat  its  ministers 
ought  to  preach  and  inculcate.  It  should  have  the  same 
place  in  their  sermons  which  it  has  in  that  gospel  which 
it  is  their  business  to  preach  ;  that  is,  it  should  be  the 
foundation,  the  substance,  the  centre,  and  drift  of  all. 

This  was  the  practice  of  the  most  successful  preach- 
er of  the  gospel  that  ever  bore  that  commission  :  I 
mean  St.  Paul.  And  in  this  he  was  not  singular  ;  his 
fellow  apostles  heartily  concurred  with  him,  We  preach 
Christ  crucified.  The  sufferings  of  Christ,  which  had 
a  dreadful  consummation  in  his  crucifixion,  their  neces- 
sity, design,  and  consequences,  and  the  way  of  salva- 
tion thereby  opened  for  a  guilty  world,  these  are  the 
principal  materials  of  our  preaching  ;  to  instruct  mankind 
in  these  is  the  great  object  of  our  ministry,  and  the  un- 
wearied labor  of  our  lives.  We  might  easily  choose  sub- 
jects more  pleasing  and  popular,  more  fit  to  display  our 
learning  and  abilities,  and  set  off  the  strong  reasoner,  or 
the  fine  orator ;  but  our  commission,  as  ministers  of  a 
crucified  Jesus,  binds  us  to  the  subject ;  and  the  neces- 
sity of  the  world  peculiarly  requires  it.  Further,  this 
was  not  the  apostle's  occasional  practice,  or  a  hasty  wa- 
vering purpose  ;  but  he  was  determined  upon  it.  "  I  de- 
termined," says  he,  "  not  to  know  anything  among  you, 
save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  crucified  :"*  1  Cor.  ii.  2. 
This  theme,  as  it  were,  engrossed  all  his  thoughts  ;  he 
dwelt  so  much  upon  it,  as  if  he  had  known  nothing  else : 
and  as  if  nothing  else  had  been  worth  knowing.  Indeed, 
he  openly  avows  such  a  neglect  and  contempt  of  all 
other  knowledge,  in  comparison  of  this :  "  I  count  all 
things  but  loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ,  my  Lord :"  Phil.  iii.  8.  The  crucifixion 
of  Christ,  which  was  the  most  ignominious  circumstance 
in  the  whole  course  of  his  abasement,  was  an  object  in 
which  he  gloried  ;  and  he  is  struck  with  horror  at  the 
thought  of  glorying  in  anything  else.  "  God  forbid," 
says  he,  "  that  I  should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ !"  Gal.  vi.  14.  In  short,  he  looked 
upon  it  as  the  perfection  of  his  character  as  a  Christian 

*  Or  Christ  Jesus,  even  that  crucified  one.  So  Dr.  Doddridge  ren- 
(Jera — hjaovv  XpiQ-ov  KUt  tovtov  eaavpu/xevov.  Christ  Jesus,  and  that 
under  the  most  iguominious  circumstances  possible,  viz.  as  crucified, 
was  the  principal  object  of  his  study,  and  the  substance  of  his  preaching. 


442  THE  PREACHING   OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

and  an  apostle,  to  be  a  constant  student,  and  a  zealous, 
indefatigable  preacher  of  the  Cross  of  Christ. 

But  though  a  crucified  Jesus  was  of  so  much  import- 
ance in  a  religion  for  sinners  ;  though  this  doctrine  was 
the  substance  of  the  gospel,  and  the  principal  object  of 
the  apostle's  ministry ;  yet,  as  it  was  not  the  invention 
of  human  reason,  so  neither  was  it  agreeable  to  the  proud 
reasonings,  or  corrupt  taste  of  the  world.  The  'preaching 
of  the  cross  is,  to  them  that  perish,  foolishiiess.  However, 
there  were  some  that  had  the  same  sentiment  of  it  with 
St.  Paul ;  even  as  many  as  were  in  the  way  of  salvation. 
Unto  us  that  are  saved,  it  is  the  power  of  God,  ver.  18.  To 
such,  that  weak  and  contemptible  thing,  the  cross,  was 
the  brightest  display  of  divine  power  to  be  found  in  the 
universe. 

Mankind  had  had  time  enough  to  try  what  expedients 
their  reason  could  find  out  for  the  reformation  and  salva- 
tion of  a  degenerate  and  perishing  world.  The  sages 
and  philosophers  of  the  heathen  world  had  had  a  clear 
stage  for  many  hundreds  of  years  ;  and  they  might  have 
done  their  utmost  without  control.  But,  alas  !  did  any 
of  them,  amid  all  their  boasted  improvements,  succeed  in 
the  experiment  ?  Or  could  they  so  much  as  find  out  a 
method  in  which  sinners  might  be  reconciled  to  their 
God  1  No ;  in  this  most  interesting  point,  they  were 
either  stupidly  thoughtless,  or  all  their  searches  issued 
in  perplexity,  or  in  the  most  absurd  and  impious  con- 
trivances. "  Where  is  the  wise  ?  where  is  the  scribe  1 
where  is  the  disputer  of  this  world  f  Let  them  appear 
and  produce  their  schemes  upon  this  head.  But  hath 
not  God  made  foolish  the  wisdom  of  this  world  ?  ver.  20. 
Yes,  indeed,  he  has,  by  proposing  a  method  most  per- 
fectly adapted  for  this  end,  which  they  not  only  never 
would  have  once  thought  of,  but  which,  when  revealed, 
their  wisdom  cannot  relish.  Their  wisdom  appears  but 
folly,  in  that  when  they  had  the  world  to  themselves 
about  four  thousand  years,  they  could  not,  in  all  that 
time,  find  out  any  successful  expedient  to  amend  and 
save  it.  And  now,  if  anything  be  done  at  all,  it  is  time 
for  God  to  do  it ;  and  how  strange,  how  unexpected,  how 
mysterious  was  his  expedient !  and  yet  how  glorious  and 
effectual!  "For  after  that,  in  the  wisdom  of  God,  the 
world  by  wisdom  knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God,  by  the 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  443 

foolishness  of  preaching,  to  save  them  that  believe ;" 
ver.  21.  This  was  the  contrivance  for  effecting  what  all 
the  wisdom  and  learning  of  the  world  could  never  cfiect : 
the  plain  nnadorned  preaching  of  Christ  crucified ; 
which,  both  for  the  matter  and  manner  of  it,  was  counted 
foolishness. 

But  how  did  the  world  bear  this  mortification  of  their 
intellectual  pride  1  And  what  reception  did  this  bounte- 
ous divine  scheme  meet  with  when  revealed  ?  Alas  !  I 
am  sorry  to  tell  you  :  The  prejudices  of  their  education 
were  different ;  but  they  were  unitedly  set  against  the 
gospel.  The  Jews  had  been  educated  in  a  religion  estab- 
lished by  a  series  of  miracles ;  and  therefore  they  were 
extravagant  in  their  demands  of  this  sort  of  evidence. 
Notwithstanding  all  the  miracles  Christ  was  working 
daily  before  their  eyes,  they  were  perpetually  asking 
him,  What  sign  shoivesf  thou?  Those  that  are  resolved 
not  to  be  convinced,  will  be  always  complaining  of  the 
want  of  proof,  and  demanding  more,  to  vindicate  their 
infidelity.  As  for  the  Greeks,  their  prejudices  were  of 
another  kind  ;  it  was  even  a  proverb  among  them,  that 
"  miracles  were  for  fools  ;"*  and  therefore  they  did  not 
desire  that  sort  of  evidence.  But  they  seek  after  wisdom. 
They  had  been  accustomed  to  fine  orations,  strong  rea- 
soning, and  a  parade  of  learning ;  and  these  were  the 
evidences  they  desired  to  recommend  a  doctrine  to  them. 
And  finding  the  doctrine  of  Christ  crucified  had  none 
of  these  embellishments,  they  despised  and  rejected  it  as 
foolishness  and  nonsense. 

The  method  of  salvation  by  the  crucifixion  of  a  sup- 
posed malefactor,  was  so  extremely  opposite  to  the  rea- 
soning, pride,  and  prejudices  of  Jews  and  Gentiles,  that 
they  could  not  beiir  it.  The  Jews  expected  the  Messiah 
would  appear  as  a  victorious  temporal  prince,  who,  in- 
stead of  flilling  a  prey  to  his  enemies,  would  subdue 
them  all  with  an  irresistible  power,  and  advance  the 
family  of  David  to  universal  empire.  And  of  all  other 
deaths,  that  of  crucifixion  was  the  most  odious  and 
abominable  to  them,  because,  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  Romans,  it  was  the  punishment  only  of  slaves  ;  and  by 
their  own  law  it  was  pronounced  accursed  ;  for  it  is  written^ 

*   Qavfiara  fiupoic. 


444  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

cursed  is  every  one  that  hatigeth  on  a  tree.  Gal.  iii.  13. 
Deiit.  xxi.  23.  Hence,  by  vray  of  contempt,  the  Jews 
called  the  blessed  Jesus  the  hanged  man. — Nay,  this  was 
a  shock  to  the  faith  of  the  apostles  themselves,  until  their 
Jewish  prejudices  were  removed  by  better  information. 
Finding  that,  instead  of  setting  up  a  glorious  kingdom, 
their  Master  was  apprehended  by  his  enemies,  and  hung 
upon  a  cross,  they  had  nothing  to  say,  but.  We  trusted 
this  was  he  that  should  have  delivered  Israel:  we  simply 
thought  so  ;  but  alas  !  now  we  see  our  mistake.  Luke 
xxiv.  21.  No  wonder  the  cross  of  Christ  should  be  a 
stumbling-block  to  such  as  had  imbibed  such  notions  of 
the  Messiah.  When,  instead  of  the  power  of  signs  and 
miracles  which  they  were  extravagantly  demanding, 
they  saw  him  crucified  in  weakness,  they  could  not  ad- 
mit the  thought  that  this  was  that  illustrious  character  of 
an  universal  king.  They  were  so  dazzled  with  worldly 
glory,  and  so  insensible  of  their  spiritual  wants,  that  they 
had  notions  of  a  spiritual  Savior,  and  a  kingdom  of 
grace  ;  nor  could  they  see  hov/  such  prophecies  were  ac- 
complished in  one  that  only  professed  to  deliver  from  the 
slavery  of  sin  and  Satan,  and  the  wrath  to  come.  Hence 
they  stumbled  at  the  cross,  as  an  obstacle  which  they 
could  not  get  over.  When  Christ  called  Lazarus  from 
the  dead,  he  had  crowds  of  followers,  who  attended  his 
triumphant  procession  into  Jerusalem  as  a  mighty  con- 
queror ;  and  when  he  had  fed  so  many  thousands  with  a 
few  loaves,  they  were  about  forcibly  to  make  him  king ; 
for  they  knew  that  one  who  could  raise  his  soldiers  to 
life  after  they  had  been  killed,  and  support  an  army  with 
so  little  provisions,  could  easily  conquer  the  world,  and 
rescue  them  from  the  power  of  the  Romans.  But  when 
they  saw  him  seized  by  his  enemies,  without  making  re- 
sistance, or  working  a  miracle  for  his  own  defence,  they 
immediately  abandoned  him  ;  and  the  hosannas  of  the 
multitude  were  turned  into  another  kind  of  cry.  Crucify 
him,  Crucify  him.  And  when  they  saw  him  hanging 
helpless  and  dying  upon  the  cross,  it  was  demonstrated 
to  them  that  he  was  an  impostor.  It  was  this  that  ren- 
dered the  preaching  of  Christ  by  his  apostles  so  unpop- 
ular among  the  Jews  :  it  seemed  to  them  like  a  panegy- 
ric upon  an  infamous  malefactor ;  and  they  thought  it  ap 
insult  to  their  nation  to  have  such  a   one   proposed  to 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  445 

them  as  their  Messiah.     Thus  Christ  crucified  was  to  the 
Jews  a  stumbling-block. 

As  to  the  Greeks,    who    were   a   learned  philosophical 
people,  it  seemed  to  them  the  wildest  folly  to  worship 
one  as  a  God  who  had  been  crucified  as  a  malefactor; 
and  to  trust  in  one  for  salvation  who  had  not  saved  him- 
self.    Their  Jupiter  had    his   thunder,  and    according    to 
their  tradition,  had  crushed  the   formidable  rebellion  of 
the   giants  against   heaven  :    their  Bacchus   had   avenged 
himself  upon  the  despisers  of  his  worship ;  and  the  whole 
rabble  of  their  deities  had  done  some  god-like  exploit,  if 
the   fables   of   their   poets   were   true;    and   would   they 
abandon  such  gods,  and  receive  in  their  stead  a  despised 
Nazarene,  who  had  been  executed  as  the  vilest  criminal 
by  his  own  nation  ?     Would  they  give  up  all  their  boast- 
ed Avisdom  and  learning,  and  become  the  humble  disciples 
of  the  cross,  and  receive  for  their  teachers  a  company 
of  illiterate  fishermen,  and  a  tent-maker  from  the  despised 
nation  of  the  Jews,  whom  they  lield  in  the  utmost  con- 
tempt from  their  ignorance,  bigotry  and  superstition  ?    No, 
the  pride  of  their  understandings  could  not  bear  such  a 
mortification.     If  their  curiosity  led  them  to  be  St.  Paul's 
hearers,  they  expected  to  be  entertained  with  a  fiourish 
of  words,  and  fine  philosophic  reasoning ;  and  when  they 
found    themselves    disappointed,  they  pronounced   him  a 
babbler,  (Acts  xvii.  28,)  and   his   preaching   foolishness. 
Corinth,  to  which  this  epistle  was  sent  by  St.  Paul,  was 
a  noted  city  among  the  Greeks,. and  therefore,  what  he 
says  upon    this   head  was   peculiarly  pertinent   and  well 
applied. 

The  prejudices  of  the  Jews  and  Greeks  in  this  respect 
outlived  the  apostolic  age,  as  we  learn  from  the  writings 
of  the  primitive  fathers  of  the  Christian  church,  who 
lived  among  them,  and  were  conversant  with  them. 
Trypho,  the  Jew,  in  a  dialogue  with  Justin  Martyr,  about 
a  hundred  years  after  St.  Paul  wrote  this  epistle,  charges 
it  upon  the  Christians  as  the  greatest  absurdity  and  im- 
piety, that  they  placed  their  hopes  in  a  crucified  man. 
Justin,  after  long  reasoning,  constrains  him  at  length  to 
make  sundry  concessions,  as,  that  the  prophecies  which 
he  had  mentioned  did  really  refer  to  the  Messiah ;  and 
that,  according  to  these  prophecies,  the  JNlessiah  was  to 
suffer.     "  But,  (says  the  Jew,)  that  Christ   should   be  so 


446  THE    PREACHING   OF   CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

ignominiously  crucified ;  that  he  should  die  a  death 
which  the  law  pronounces  accursed,  this  we  cannot  but 
doubt ;  this  I  yet  find  a  very  hard  thing  to  believe,  and 
therefore  if  you  have  any  further  evidence  upon  this  head, 
would  willingly  hear  it."  Here  you  see  the  cross  was  a 
stumbling-block,  which  the  Jews  could  not  get  over  in  a 
hundred  years  ;  nay,  they  have  not  got  over  it  to  this 
day.  Lactantius,  about  three  hundred  years  after  Christ's 
birth,  observes,  that  the  sufferings  of  Christ  were  wont 
to  be  cast  upon  Christians  as  a  reproach  ;  it  was  thought 
a  strange  and  scandalous  thing  that  they  should  worship 
a  man  ;  a  man  that  had  been  crucified,  and  put  to  the 
most  infamous  and  tormenting  death  by  men.*  A  hea- 
then, in  Minutius  Felix,  is  introduced  as  saying,  "  He  who 
represents  a  man  punished  for  his  crime  with  the  se- 
verest punishment,  and  the  savage  wood  of  the  cross,  as 
the  object  of  their  worship,  and  a  ceremony  of  their  re- 
ligion, ascribes  a  very  proper  altar  to  such  abandoned 
and  wicked  creatures,  that  they  may  worship  that  which 
they  deserve  to  hang  upon."-)-  And  referring  to  the  many 
barbarous  persecutions  they  then  groaned  under,  he 
jeers  them  !  '•  See  here,"  says  he,  "  are  threatenings  for 
you,  punishments,  tortures,  and  crosses,  not  to  be  ador- 
ed, but  endured."J  "  The  calumniating  Greeks,"  says 
Athanasius,  "  ridicule  us  and  set  up  a  broad  laugh  at  us, 
because  we  regard  nothing  so  much  as  the  cross  of 
Christ." 

Thus  you  see,  the  doctrine  of  the  cross  was,  of  all 
other  things,  the  most  unpopular  among  Jews  and  Gen- 
tiles, and  the  most  disagreeable  to  their  taste.  A  man 
could  not  expect  to  shine,  or  cut  a  figure  as  a  man  of 
sense  and  learning,  by  making  this  the  subject  of  his 
discourses.  But  will  Paul  give  it  up,  and  display  his 
talents  upon  some  more  acceptable  theme  ?  This,  as  a 
fine  scholar,  he  was  very  capable  of;  but  he  abhors  the 
thought. 

*  Passionnem  qujc  velut  opprobrium  nobis  objeelari  solet :  quod  et  ho- 
mineni,  ot  ab  honmiibus  iusijjni  tsuppiicio  alFectum  et  excruciatum  colamua. 
J)e  ver.  Sap.  L.  IV.  c.  IG. 

t  Q,ui  lionilnem  suinmo  supplicio  pro  facinore  punitum,  et  cruais  ligna 
feralia  eoruin  Cerciuoiiias  tabulatur,  cougruentia  perditia  sceleratisque 
iribuit  altaria,  ut  id  colant  quod  mereutur.  1'.  9. 

I  Ecce  vobia  minai.  supplicia,  tormenta,  ctiam  nun  adorandae  sed  succundae 
cruces.  P.  11. 


THE    MEAN    OF   SALVATION.  447 

"  Let  the  Jews  and  Greeks  desire  what  they  please ; 
we,"  says  he,  "  will  not  humor  them,  nor  gratify  their 
taste :  however  they  take  it,  we  will  preach  Christ  eru- 
citied ;  though  to  the  Jews  he  should  prove  a  stumbling- 
block,  and  to  the  Greeks  foolishness."  And  there  are 
some  that  relish  this  humble  doctrine.  To  them  that 
believe,  both  Jews  and  Greeks,  whether  learned  or  un- 
learned, whether  educated  in  the  Jewish  or  Pagan  relig- 
ion, however  different  their  prejudices,  or  their  natural 
tastes,  to  all  that  believe,  notwithstanding  these  differ- 
ences, Christ,  that  is,  Christ  crucified^  is  the  power  of  God^ 
and  ike  wisdom  of  God.  The  wisdom  and  power  of  God 
are  not  the  only  perfections  that  shine  in  this  method  of 
salvation  by  the  cross ;  but  the  apostle  particularly  men- 
tions these,  as  directly  answering  to  the  respective  de- 
mands of  Jews  and  Greeks.  If  the  Jew  desire  the  sign 
of  power  in  working  miracles,  the  believer  sees  in  Christ 
crucified  a  power  superior  to  all  the  powers  of  miracles. 
If  the  Greeks  seek  after  wisdom,  here,  in  a  crucified 
Christ,  the  wisdom  of  God  shines  in  the  highest  perfection. 
Whatever  sign  or  wisdom  the  Jew  or  Greek  desires  and 
seeks  after,  the  believer  finds  more  than  an  equivalent  in 
the  cross.  This  is  the  greatest  miracle  of  power,  the  great- 
est mystery  of  wisdom  in  all  the  world. 

The  prejudices  of  the  Jews  and  Gentiles  were  not  only 
confined  to  the  early  ages  of  Christianity  ;  the  same  de- 
praved taste,  the  same  contempt  of  the  humble  doctrines 
of  the  cross  may  be  found  among  us,  though  professed 
Christians :  some  resemble  the  J  ews,  who  were  perpetu- 
ally demanding  signs :  they  aflTect  visions  and  impulses, 
and  all  the  reveries  of  enthusiasm,  instead  of  the  preach- 
ing of  Christ  crucified.  Others,  like  the  Greeks,  through 
an  affectation  of  florid  harangues,  moral  discourses,  and 
a  parade  of  learning  and  philosophy,  nauseate  this  sort 
of  preaching,  and  count  it  foolishness.  It  is  therefore 
high  time  for  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  to  stand  up  as 
advocates  for  the  cross,  and  with  a  pious  obstinacy  to 
adhere  to  this  subject,  whatever  contempt  and  ridicule 
it  may  expose  them  to.  For  my  part,  I  know  not  what 
I  have  to  do,  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  but  to  preach 
Christ  crucified.  I  would  make  him  the  substance,  the 
centre,  the  end  of  all  my  ministrations.     And  if  we,  or 


448  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  unto  you  any  other  gospel — you 
know  his  doom — let  him  be  accursed.     Gal.  i.  9. 

We  are  to  consider  the  apostles  as  sent  out  into  the 
world  to  reform  and  save  the  corrupt  and  perishing  sons 
of  men,  and  the  preaching  of  Christ  crucified  as  the 
mean  they  used  for  this  important  end.  This  is  the  for- 
mal view  the  apostle  had  of  preaching  Christ  in  this 
place,  viz.  as  a  mean  found  out  by  the  wisdom  of  God 
to  save  them  that  believe,  after  that  all  the  wisdom  of 
the  world  had  tried  in  vain  to  find  out  a  method  for  this 
end.  This  is  evident  from  verse  21.  After  that  the 
world  by  all  its  ivisdoni  knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God,  by 
the  foolishness  of  preaching  ;  that  is,  by  the  preaching  a 
crucified  Saviour,  which  the  world  counts  foolishness,  to 
save  them  that  believe.  This  is  the  excellency  of  this 
preaching,  this  is  the  reason  why  the  apostle  could  not  be 
prevailed  upon  by  any  motive  to  desert  it,  that  it  is  the  only 
mean  of  salvation  ;  and  it  is  in  this  view  I  now  intend  to 
consider  it.  And  if  your  everlasting  salvation  be  of  any 
importance  to  you,  certainly  this  subject  demands  your  most 
serious  attention. 

I  have  been  the  longer  explaining  the  context,  because 
it  is  so  closely  connected  with  the  subject  I  have  in  view, 
and  reflects  light  upon  it.  And  I  shall  only  add,  that 
preaching  Christ  crucified  is  the  same  thing  as  preach- 
ing salvation  through  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  His  suf- 
ferings were  of  long  continuance,  even  from  his  concep- 
tion to  his  resurrection  ;  and  they  were  of  various  kinds, 
poverty,  weariness  and  labor,  hunger  and  thirst,  con- 
tempt and  reproach,  buffeting,  scourging,  and  a  thorny 
crown.  But  there  are  two  words,  which  by  a  synedoche 
are  often  used  in  scripture  to  signity  all  his  sufferings  of 
every  kind,  from  first  to  last ;  viz.  his  blood  and  his  cross. 
And  the  reason  is,  the  shedding  of  his  blood,  and  the 
death  of  the  cross,  were  the  worst  kind  and  highest  de- 
gree of  his  sufferings.  In  his  crucifixion  all  his  other 
sufterings  were  united  and  centered  :  this  was  a  com- 
plete summary  and  consummation  of  them  all ;  and 
therefore,  they  are  frequently  included  under  this.  In  this 
latitude  I  shall  use  the  word  in  this  discourse  ;  which  I  hope 
you  will  take  notice  of,  that  no  part  of  the  meaning  may 
escape  you. 

Our  inquiry  shall  be, 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  449 

What  are  the  reasons  that  the  preaching  of  Christ  cru- 
cified is,  above  all  others,  the  best,  and  the  only  effectual 
mean  for  the  salvation  of  sinners  1 

These  reasons  may  be  reduced  under  two  general 
heads,  namely,  That  through  the  crucifixion  of  Christ, 
and  through  that  only,  a  way  is  really  opened  for  the 
salvation  of  sinners ;  and  that  the  preaching  of  Christ 
crucified  makes  such  a  discovery  of  things,  as  has  the 
most  direct  tendency  to  bring  them  to  repentance,  and 
produce  m  them  that  temper  which  is  necessary  to  sal- 
vation. Or  in  other  words,  in  this  way  salvation  is  pro- 
vided, and  sinners  are  made  fit  to  enjoy  it ;  both  which 
are  absolutely  necessary.  Our  world  is  deeply  and  uni- 
versally sunk  in  sin.  Men  have  cast  contempt  upon 
the  divine  government,  broken  the  divine  law,  and  so 
incurred  its  penalty ;  they  have  forfeited  the  favor  of 
God,  and  rendered  themselves  liable  to  his  displeasure. 
Had  mankind  continued  innocent,  there  would  have 
been  no  difficulty  in  their  case.  It  would  be  very  plain 
what  would  be  fit  for  the  divine  government  to  do  with 
dutiful  subjects.  But,  alas !  rebellion  against  God  has 
made  its  entrance  into  our  world,  and  all  its  inhabitants 
are  up  in  arms  against  Heaven.  This  has  thrown  all 
into  confusion,  and  rendered  it  a  perplexing  case  what 
to  do  with  them.  In  one  view,  indeed,  the  case  is  plain, 
viz.  that  proper  punishments  should  be  executed  upon 
them.  This  would  appear  evidently  just  to  the  whole 
universe,  and  no  objection  could  be  made  against  it, 
though  the  criminals  themselves,  who  are  parties,  and 
therefore  not  fit  judges,  might  murmur  against  it  as  un- 
merciful and  severe.  But  the  difficulty  is,  how  such 
rebels  may  not  only  be  delivered  from  the  punishments 
they  deserve,  but  made  happy  forever.  If  they  cannot 
be  saved  in  a  way  that  displays  the  perfections  of  God, 
and  does  honor  to  his  government :  a  way  in  which  sin 
will  meet  with  no  encouragement,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  an  effectual  warning  will  be  given  against  it;  a 
way  in  which  depraved  creatures  may  be  sanctified  and 
made  fit  for  the  pure  bliss  of  heaven  ;  I  say,  if  they  can- 
iK)t  be  saved  in  such  a  way  as  I  his,  they  cannot  be  saved 
at  all :  their  salvation  is  quite  impossible  :  for  each  of 
these  particulars  is  of  such  importance,  that  it  cannot  be 


450  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

dispensed  with.  God  is  the  best  and  most  glorious 
Being  in  himself;  and  it  is  fit  he  should  do  justice  to 
his  own  perfections,  and  exhibit  them  in  the  most  God- 
like and  glorious  manner  to  his  creatures ;  to  do  other- 
wise would  be  to  wrong  himself,  to  obscure  the  bright- 
est glory,  and  dishonor  the  highest  excellenc}^  This 
therefore  cannot  be  done  :  men  and  angels  must  be  hap- 
py, in  a  way  consistent  with  his  glory,  otherwise  they 
must  perish;  for  the  display  of  his  glory  is  a  greater 
good,  and  a  matter  of  more  importance,  than  the  happi- 
ness of  the  whole  creation.  God  is  also  the  moral 
Governor  of  the  world.  And  his  government  over  our 
world  is  a  government  over  a  country  of  rebels ;  and 
that  is  a  tender  point,  and  requires  a  judicious  manage- 
ment. An  error  in  government,  in  such  a  case,  may 
have  the  most  fiital  consequences,  both  as  to  the  ruler 
and  his  subjects  in  all  parts  of  his  dominions.  A  private 
person  may,  if  he  pleases,  give  up  his  rights,  may  par- 
don offenders,  and  conceal  his  justice,  and  other  quali- 
ties for  government ;  but  a  ruler  is  not  at  liberty  in  this 
case.  He  must  maintain  his  character,  make  known  his 
capacity  for  government,  and  support  the  dignity  of  the 
law  :  otherwise,  all  might  rush  into  confusion  and  law- 
less violence.  If  the  ruler  of  a  small  kingdom  on  our 
little  globe  should  fail  to  discover  his  justice ;  if  he 
should  pardon  criminals,  and  admit  them  into  favor,  and 
into  posts  of  honor  and  profit,  without  giving  proper  ex- 
pressions of  his  displeasure  against  their  conduct,  and  a 
striking  warning  against  all  disobedience,  how  fatal 
would  be  the  consequences  ?  how  soon  would  such  a 
ruler  fall  into  contempt,  and  his  government  be  unhinged  ? 
and  how  soon  would  his  kingdom  become  a  scene  of 
confusion  and  violence  ?  Criminals  might  like  such  an 
administration ;  but  I  appeal  to  yourselves,  would  you 
choose  to  live  under  it '?  Now,  how  much  more  terrible 
and  extensively  mischievous  would  be  the  consequences, 
if  the  universal  Ruler  of  men  and  angels,  and  of  more 
worlds  than  we  have  heard  the  fame  of,  should  exercise 
such  a  government  over  our  rebellious  world  ?  It  would' 
be  reproachful  to  himself;  and  it  would  be  most  injuri- 
ous to  his  subjects :  in  short,  it  might  throw  heaven  and 
earth,  and  unknown  regions  of  the  universe,  into  confu- 


TriE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  451 

sion.*  He  must,  therefore,  display  his  own  rectoral  vir- 
tues ;  he  must  maintain  the  honor  of  his  frovcrnment,  he 
must  show  his  displeasure  ai!!;ainst  disobedience,  and  deter 
his  subjects  from  it ;  I  say,  he  must  do  these  thiufis  in 
saving  the  sinners  of  Adam's  race,  or  he  cannot  save  them 
at  all.  Should  he  save  them  upon  other  terms,  it  would 
reflect  dishonor  upon  himself  and  administration  ;  and  it 
would  be  injurious  to  the  good  of  the  whole,  which  is 
always  the  end  of  a  wise  ruler;  for  the  favor  thus  iujii- 
diciously  shown  to  a  part  of  the  creation  in  our  world, 
might  occasion  a  more  extensive  mischief  in  other  more 
important  worlds  ;  and  so  it  would  be  promoting  a  pri- 
vate interest  to  the  detriment  of  the  public,  which  is  al- 
ways the  character  of  a  weak  or  wicked  ruler.  Again, 
sinners  cannot  be  saved  until  their  dispositions  be  changed, 
so  that  they  can  relish  and  delight  in  the  fruition  and  em- 
ployments of  the  heavenly  state.  Provision,  therefore, 
must  be  made  for  this ;  otherwise,  their  salvation  is  impos- 
sible. 

Now,  the  way  of  salvation,  through  Christ  cruciticd, 
most  completely  answers  these  ends  in  the  most  illustrious 
manner. 

1.  The  salvation  of  sinners,  in  this  way,  gives  the  bright- 
est display  of  the  perfections  of  God,  and  particularly  of 
those  that  belong  to  him,  as  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the 
rational  world,  and  maintains  the  honor  of  his  govern- 
ment. 

Justice  and  clemency,  duly  tempered,  and  exercised 
with  wisdom,  is  a  summary  of  those  virtues  that  belong 
to  a  good  ruler.  Now^  these  are  most  illustriously  dis- 
played in  a  happy  conjunction  in  Christ  crucified.  Jus- 
tice shines  brighter  than  if  every  sin  had  l)een  punished 
upon  offenders,  without  any  mercy  ;  and  mercy  and  clem- 
ency shine  brighter  than  if  every  sin  had  been  pardon- 
ed, and  every  sinner  made  happy,  without  any  execution 
of  justice.  *]\Iercy  appears  in  turning  the  divine  mind 
with  such  a  strong  propensity  upon  the  salvation  of  sin- 
ners;  and  justice  appears,  in  that  when  the  heart  of  God 
\vas  so  much  set  upon  it,  yet  he  would  not  save  them 
without   a   complete   satisfaction    to    his  justice.     Mercy 

"  Pardoning  sin,  receiving  into  I'avor,  and  bestowing  happiness,  are  not 
to  be  considered,  in  this  case,  as  private  favors  ;  but  tliey  are  acts  of  gov- 
erumont. 


452  THE    PREACHING    OF    OHKIST    CRUCIFIED 

appears  in  providing  such  a  Savior  ;  and  justice,  in  in- 
flicting the  punishment  due  to  sin  upon  him,  without 
abatement,  though  lie  loved  him  more  than  the  whole 
universe  of  creatures.  Mercy,  in  transferring  the  guilt 
from  the  sinner  upon  the  surety,  and  accepting  a  vica- 
rious satisfaction  :  justice,  in  exacting  the  satisfaction, 
and  not  passing  by  sin,  when  it  was  but  imputed  to  the 
darling  Son  of  God.  Mercy,  in  pardoning  and  saving 
guilty  sinners  :  justice,  in  punishing  their  sin.  Mercy, 
in  justifying  them,  though  destitute  of  all  personal  merit 
and  righteousness  :  justice,  in  justifying  them  only  and 
entirely  on  account  of  the  merit  and  righteousness  of 
Christ.  Thus,  the  righteousness  or  justice  of  God  is  de- 
clared not  only  in  the  punishment,  but  in  the  remission 
of  sins,  Rom.  iii.  26,  and  we  are  justified  freely  through 
his  grace,  and  in  the  meantime  by  the  redemption 
that  is  in  Jesus  Christ,  (verse  24.)  Mercy  appears  in 
providing  a  Savior  of  such  infinite  dignity  :  justice,  in 
refusing  satisfaction  from  an  inferior  person.  Mercy,  in 
forgiving  sin  :  justice,  in  not  forgiving  so  much  as  one 
sin  without  a  sufficient  atonement.  Mercy,  rich,  free 
mercy  towards  the  sinner  :  justice,  strict,  inexorable  jus- 
tice towards  the  surety.  In  short,  mercy  and  justice,  as 
it  were,  walk  hand  in  hand  through  every  step  of  this 
amazing  scheme.  They  are  not  only  glorious  each  of 
them  apart,  but  they  mingle  their  beams,  and  reflect  a 
glory  upon  each  other.  By  this  scheme  of  salvation,  by 
the  Cross  of  Christ,  also,  the  honor  of  the  divine  govern- 
ment is  secured  and  advanced.  The  clemency  and  com- 
passion of  God  towards  his  rebellious  subjects,  are  most 
illustriously  displayed  ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  he  takes 
care  to  secure  the  sacred  rights  of  his  government. 
Though  innumerable  multitudes  of  rebels  are  pardoned, 
yet  not  one  of  them  is  pardoned  until  their  rebellion  is 
punished  according  to  its  demerit  in  the  person  of  the 
surety.  The  precept  of  the  law,  which  they  had  broken, 
was  perfectly  obeyed  ;  the  penalty  which  they  had  in- 
curred, was  fully  endured,  not  by  themselves  indeed,  but 
by  one  that  presented  himself  in  their  place  ;  and  it  is 
only  on  this  footing  they  arc  received  into  favor.  So 
that  the  law  is  magnified,  and  innde  honorable,  and  the 
rights  of  government  are  pro -eived   sacred  and  inviola- 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  453 

ble,  and  yet  the  prisoners  ot*  justice  are  set  free,  and  ad- 
vanced to  the  highest  honors  and  blessedness. 

2.  In  this  way  of  salvation,  God's  hatred  to  sin  is  dis- 
covered in  the  most  striking  light ;  the  evil  of  sin  is  ex- 
posed in  the  most  dreadful  colors  ;  and  so  an  effectual 
warning  is  given  to  all  worlds  to  deter  them  from  it. 
Now  it  appears,  that  such  is  the  divine  hatred  against 
all  sin,  that  God  can  by  no  means  connive  at  it,  or  suffer 
it  to  pass  without  punishment  ;  and  that  all  the  infi- 
nite benevolence  of  his  nature  towards  his  creatures  can- 
not prevail  upon  him  to  pardon  the  least  sin  without  an 
adequate  satisfliction.  Nay,  now  it  appears  that  when  so 
malignant  and  abominable  a  thing  is  but  imputed  to  his 
dear  Son,  his  co-equal,  his  darling,  his  favorite,  even  he 
could  not  escape  unpunished,  but  was  made  a  monument 
of  vindictive  justice  to  all  worlds.  And  what  can  more 
strongly  expose  the  evil  of  sin  ?  It  is  such  an  intolerably 
malignant  and  abominable  thing,  that  even  a  God  of  in- 
finite mercy  and  grace  cannot  let  the  least  instance  of  it 
pass  unpunished.  It  was  not  a  small  thing  that  could 
arm  his  justice  against  the  Son  of  his  love.  But  when 
he  was  but  made  sin  for  us,  and  was  perfectly  innocent 
in  himself,  God  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered 
him  up  unto  death,  the  shameful,  tormenting,  and  accurs- 
ed death  of  the  Cross.  Go,  ye  fools,  that  make  a  mock 
at  sin,  go  and  learn  its  malignity  and  demerit  at  the 
Cross  of  Jesus.  Who  is  it  that  hangs  there  writhing 
in  the  agonies  of  death,  his  hands  and  feet  pierced  with 
nails,  his  side  with  a  spear,  his  face  bruised  with  blows, 
and  drenched  with  tears  and  blood,  his  heart  melting  like 
wax,  his  whole  frame  racked  and  disjointed  ;  forsaken 
by  his  friends,  and  even  by  his  Father  ;  temi)ted  by 
devils,  and  insulted  by  men  l  Who  is  this  amazing  spec- 
tacle of  woe  and  torture  J  It  is  Jesus,  the  eternal  Word 
of  God  ;  the  Man  that  is  his  fellow  ;  his  Elect,  in  whom 
his  soul  delighteth  ;  his  beloved  Son,  in  whom  he  is 
well  pleased.  And  what  has  he  done  ?  He  did  no  wick- 
edness ;  he  knew  no  sin  ;  but  was  holy,  harmless,  un- 
defiled,  and  separate  from  sinners.  And  whence  then 
all  these  dreadful  sufferings  from  heaven,  earth,  and 
hell  1  Why,  he  only  stood  in  the  law-place  of  sinners  ; 
he  only  received  their  sin  by  imputation.  And  you  see 
what  it  has  brought  upon  him  !  you  see  how  low  it  has 


464?  THE    PKEACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

reduced  him  !  and  what  a  horrid  evil  must  that  be,  which 
has  such  tremendous  consequences,  even  upon  the  Dar- 
ling of  heaven  !  O  !  what  still  more  dreadful  havoc 
would  it  have  made,  if  it  had  been  punished  upon  the 
sinner  himself  in  his  own  person  !  Surely  all  the  vari- 
ous miseries  which  have  been  inflicted  upon  our  guilty 
world  in  all  ages,  and  even  all  the  punishments  of  hell, 
do  not  so  loudly  proclaim  the  terrible  desert  and  malig- 
nity of  sin  as  the  Cross  of  Christ ;  and  hence  it  follows, 
that  in  this  way  of  salvation,  the  most  effectual  warning 
is  given  to  the  whole  universe,  to  deter  them  from  dis- 
obedience. Rebels  are  pardoned  and  made  happy,  with- 
out making  a  bad  precedent,  or  giving  any  encourage- 
ment to  others  to  repeat  the  transgression.  And  this 
was  the  tender  and  critical  point.  If  rebels  can  be  par- 
doned without  reflecting  dishonor  upon  the  government, 
and  doing  injury  to  the  society,  it  is  well ;  but  how  this 
shall  be  done,  is  the  difficulty.  Bat  by  the  strange  expe- 
dient of  a  crucified  Savior,  all  the  difficulty  is  removed. 
Sinners  can  no  more  presume  upon  sin,  with  a  pretence 
that  the  Supreme  Ruler  has  no  great  indignation  against 
it,  or  that  there  is  no  great  evil  in  it ;  for,  as  I  observed, 
his  hatred  to  sin,  and  the  infinite  malignity  of  it,  appear 
nowhere  in  so  striking  and  awful  a  light  as  in  the  Cross  of 
Christ.  Let  a  reasonable  creature  take  but  one  serious 
view  of  that,  and  sure  he  must  ever  after  tremble  at  the 
thought  of  the  least  sin.  Again,  though  sinners  are  par- 
doned in  this  way,  yet  no  encouragement  is  given  to  the 
various  territories  of  the  divine  dominions  to  flatter  them- 
selves that  they  also  will  be  forgiven  in  case  they  should 
imitate  the  race  of  man  in  their  rebellion.  There  is  but 
one  instance  that  we  know  of  in  the  whole  universe  of  the 
forgiveness  of  sin,  and  the  restoration  of  rebels  into  favor, 
and  we  are  so  happy  as  to  find  that  only  instance  in  our 
guilty  world.  But  what  a  strange  revolution  has  been 
brought  about !  what  amazing  miracles  have  been  wrought 
in  order  to  prepare  the  way  for  it !  The  eternal  Son  of 
God  must  become  a  man,  and  die  the  death  of  a  crim- 
inal and  slave  upon  the  cross.  The  very  first  effort  of 
pardoning  grace  went  thus  far  ;  and  is  it  possible  it 
should  go  auy  farther  ?  or  is  there  reason  to  hope  that 
such  a  miracle  should  often  be  repeated  1 — tliat  the  Son 
of  God  should  hang  upon  a  cross  as  often  as  any  race  of 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATlOxV.  455 

ore<atures  may  foil  into  sin  1  Such  hopes  receive  a  damp 
from  the  case  of  the  apostate  angels,  for  whom  he  refused 
to  die  and  assume  the  office  of  a  Savior.  Or  is  tlicro 
jjiiy  other  being  that  can  perform  that  task  for  some 
other  kingdom  of  rebels  which  Christ  has  discharged 
for  the  sons  of  men '?  No:  he  only  is  equal  to  it;  and 
jH^ne  else  has  sufficient  dignity,  power,  or  love.  Thi.!, 
tli-i-efore,  must  strike  a  terror  into  all  worlds  at  the 
thought  of  sin,  and  leave  them  no  umbrage  to  presume 
they  shall  escape  punishment,  when  they  observe  that  the 
redeemed  from  among  men  could  not  be  saved  but  at  so 
prodigious  an  expense,  and  that  the  fallen  angels  are  suf- 
fered to  jDerish  without  any  salvation  provided  for  them  at 
all. 

3.  In  this  way,  provision  is  made  for  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  sinners,  that  they  may  be  fit  for  the  fruitions  and 
employments  of  the  heavenly  state.  Their  taste  is  so 
vitiated,  that  they  have  no  relish  for  that  pure  bliss,  and 
therefore  can  no  more  be  happy  there  than  a  sick  man 
can  relish  the  entertainments  of  a  feast.  And  they  are 
so  far  gone  with  the  deadly  disease  of  sin,  that  they  are 
not  able  to  recover  themselves  ;  nay,  they  are  not  so 
much  as  disposed  to  use  means  for  that  end.  They  are 
estranged  from  God,  and  engaged  in  rebellion  against 
him ;  and  they  love  to  continue  so.  They  will  not  sub- 
mit, nor  return  to  their  duty  and  allegiance.  Hence, 
there  is  need  of  a  superior  power  to  subdue  their  stub- 
born hearts,  and  sweetly  constrain  them  to  subjection  ; 
to  inspire  them  with  the  love  of  God,  and  an  implacable 
detestation  of  all  sin.  And  for  this  purpose,  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God  is  sent  into  the  world  :  for  this  purpose  he 
is  at  work,  from  age  to  age,  upon  the  hearts  of  men. 
And  though  he  be  most  ungratefully  resisted,  grieved, 
and  despitefully  treated,  and  he  gives  up  many  to  the 
lusts  of  their  own  hearts,  yet  numerous  and  glorious  are 
the  conquests  he  has  gained  over  rebellious  sinners. 
Many  a  stubborn  will  has  he  sweetly  subdued ;  many  a 
heart  of  stone  has  he  softened,  and  dissolved  into  in- 
genuous repentance,  like  snow  before  the  sun  ;  many  a 
depraved  soul  has  he  purified,  and  at  length  brought  to 
the  heavenly  state  in  all  the  beauties  of  perfect  holiness. 
And  hence  it  is,  that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  true  re- 
ligion to  be  found  upon  earth,  and   that  any  of  the  sons 


456  THE    PliEAOIIING    OF    CHKIST    CIIUCIFIED 

of  men  are  recovered  to  obedience  and  happiness.  But 
for  this  inestimable  blessing  we  are  indebted  to  a  cru- 
cified Christ.  It  is  the  dear  purchase  of  his  blood,  and 
had  it  not  been  so  purchased,  it  would  never  have  been 
communicated  to  our  guilty  world  ;  and  consequently 
never  would  one  rebel  have  submitted,  never  would  one 
heart  have  felt  the  love  of  God,  among  all  the  sons  of 
nien. 

Thus,  my  brethren,  you  see  a  way  is  really  opened  for 
the  salvation  of  sinners  through  the  crucifixion  of  Christ. 
And  oh  !  what  an  amazing,  unexpected,  mysterious  way  ! 
how  far  beyond  the  reach  of  human  wisdom  !  and  how 
brilliant  a  display  of  the  divine  !  To  display  the  per- 
fections of  God  by  occasion  of  sin  more  illustriously 
than  if  sin  had  never  entered  into  the  world,  and  thus 
bring  the  greatest  good  out  of  the  greatest  evil — to  par- 
don and  save  the  sinner,  and  yet  condemn  and  punish 
his  sin  ! — to  give  the  brightest  display  of  justice  in  the 
freest  exercise  of  mercy  ;  and  the  richest  discovery  of 
mercy  in  the  most  rigorous  execution  of  justice — to  dis- 
miss rebels  from  punishment,  and  advance  them  to  the 
highest  honors,  and  yet ,  secure  and  even  advance  the 
honor  of  the  government  against  which  they  had  rebel- 
led —  to  give  the  most  effectual  warning  against  sin, 
even  in  rewarding  the  sinner ;  and  to  let  it  pass  unpun- 
ished, without  making  a  bad  precedent,  or  giving  any 
encouragement  to  it — to  magnify  the  law  in  justifying 
those  that  had  broken  it — to  discover  the  utmost  hatred 
against  sin,  in  showing  the  highest  love  to  the  sinner — 
what  an  astonishing  God-like  scheme  is  this !  What 
a  stupendous  display  of  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God  ! 
Could  the  Socrateses,  the  Platos,  and  other  oracles  of 
the  heathen  world,  ever  have  found  out  an  expedient  to 
answer  this  end,  and  reconcile  these  seeming  contradic- 
tions !  No ;  this  would  have  nonplussed  men  and  an- 
gels ;  for  in  what  a  strange,  unthought-of  way  is  it 
brought  about !  that  the  Son  of  God  should  become  the 
Son  of  Man  ;  the  Head  of  the  universe  appear  in  the 
form  of  a  servant ;  the  Author  of  life  die  upon  a  cross ; 
the  Lawgiver  become  the  subject  of  his  own  law,  and 
suffer  its  penalty,  though  perfectly  innocent  !  Who 
would  ever  have  thought  of  such  strange  events  as 
these?      This  is  to  accomplish  astonishing  things  in  an 


rJlK    MliAN     OF    SALVATION.  457 

astonishing  way.  You  may  as  well  set  a  human  under- 
standing to  draw  the  plan  of  a  world,  as  to  form  such  a 
scheme  as  this.  O!  it  is  all  divine;  it  is  the  wonder  ot* 
angels;  and  the  greatest  miracle  in  the  universe. 

Thus,  you  see,  there  are  very  good  reasons,  reducible 
to  this  head,  why  the  Cross  of  Christ  should  be  the  grand 
weapon  to  destroy  the  kingdom  of  darkness,  and  rescue 
sinners  and  bring  them  into  a  state  of  liberty  and  glory. 

And  there  are  reasons,  equally  important,  that  fall 
under  the  other  head,  viz. :  That  the  preaching  of  Christ 
crucified  makes  such  a  discovery  of  things,  as  has  the 
most  direct  tendency  to  bring  sinners  to  repentance, 
and  produce  in  them  that  temper  which  is  necessary  to 
their  salvation. 

If  a  representation  of  the  most  moving,  the  most  allur- 
ing, and  most  alarming  matters,  can  affect  the  mind  of 
man,  certainly  the  preaching  of  the  cross  cannot  be 
without  effect ;  for, 

1.  The  preaching  of  a  crucified  Savior  gives  the 
strongest  assurance  to  the  guilty  sons  of  men,  that  their 
offended  God  is  reconcilable  to  them,  and  willing  to 
receive  them  into  favor  again,  upon  their  penitent  return 
to  him.  The  provision  he  has  made  for  this  end,  and 
particularly  his  appointing  his  Son  to  be  their  Savior, 
and  delivering  him  up  to  the  death  of  the  cross  for 
them,  leaves  no  room  for  doubt  upon  this  head.  It  is 
full  demonstration  that  he  is  not  only  willing,  but  that 
his  heart  is  earnestly  set  upon  reconciliation ;  otherwise 
he  would  not  have  been  at  such  infinite  pains  and  expense 
to  remove  obstructions,  and  clear  the  way  fur  it.  Now 
this  is  an  assurance  that  the  light  of  nature  could  never 
give.  It  leaves  us  dreadfully  in  the  dark.  And  indeed, 
nothing  but  an  express  declaration  from  God  himself  can 
inform  us  what  he  intends  to  do  with  criminals  that  lie 
entirely  at  mercy,  and  that  he  may  do  what  he  pleases 
with.  The  heathen  world  were  either  stupidly  thought- 
less about  this  point,  or  full  of  anxiety  ;  and  their  phi- 
losophers, amid  all  their  boasted  knowledge,  could  only 
offer  plausible  conjectures.  And  yet  this  assurance  is 
necessary  to  keep  up  religion  in  the  world,  and  encour- 
age rebellious  sinners  to  return  to  obedience ;  for  with 
what  heart  can  they  serve  that  God,  as  to  whom  they 
fear  he  will  accept  of  no  service  at  their  hands,  or  re- 


458  THE    PREACHING     OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

turn  to  him,  when  they  have  no  encouragement  that  he 
will  receive  them  1  The  hope  of  acceptance  is  the 
spring  of  repentance  and  all  attempts  for  reformation; 
and  when  once  the  sinner  concludes  there  is  no  hope, 
he  lies  down  inactive  and  sullen  in  despair,  or  confirms 
himself  in  hardened  impenitence,  and  gives  the  full  rein 
to  his  lusts.  This  the  Psalmist  observed  long  ago; 
"There  is  forgiveness  with  thee,  O  Lord,  that  thou  may- 
est  be  feared."  Psa.  cxxx.  4.  The  fear  of  God  is  ofleii 
used  in  Scripture  for  the  whole  of  religion ;  and  so  it 
seems  taken  here.  As  much  as  to  say,  ''There  is  for- 
giveness with  thee ;  and  thou  hast  assured  us  of  it,  that 
religion  might  be  preserved  in  the  world,  that  mankind 
may  not  abandon  thy  service  as  wholly  in  vain :  or  give 
up  themselves  to  sin,  as  despairing  of  acceptance  upon 
their  repentance."  O !  what  an  acceptable  assurance 
must  this  be  to  a  guilty  trembling  sinner  !  And  how  suita- 
ble a  remedy  to  such  sinners  is  the  preaching  of  the  cross 
of  Christ,  which  alone  gives  them  this  welcome  assur- 
ance ! 

2.  The  preaching  of  a  crucified  Savior  gives  the  most 
moving  display  of  the  love  of  God ;  and  love  is  a  strong 
attractive  to  repentance  and  obedience.  There  cannot 
be  so  strong  an  expression  of  love  as  the  sufferings  of 
Christ.  For  God  to  give  us  life,  and  breath,  and  all 
things — what  is  this,  in  comparison  to  the  gift  of  his 
Son,  and  those  immortal  blessings  which  he  has  purchased 
with  his  blood  1  To  create  such  a  world  as  this  for  our 
residence,  to  furnish  it  with  such  a  rich  variety  of  bless- 
ings for  our  accommodation,  and  to  exercise  a  tender 
providence  over  us  every  moment  of  our  lives,  this  is 
amazing  love  and  goodness.  But  what  is  this  in  com- 
parison of  his  dying  love!  To  speak  an  all-creating 
word,  and  to  hang,  and  agonize,  and  expire  upon  the 
cross !  to  give  us  the  blessings  of  the  earth,  and  to  give 
the  blood  of  his  heart;  these  are  very  different  things; 
they  will  not  hold  in  comparison. 

My  brethren,  let  me  make  an  experiment  upon  you 
with  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  try  with  that  weapon  to 
slay  your  sins,  and  break  your  hearts.  Can  you  view 
such  agonies  and  question  the  love  that  endured  ihem'^ 
Or  can  you  place  yourselves  under  the  warm  beams  of 
that  love,  and  yet  feel  no  love  kindled  in  your  hearts  in 


THE    MEAN    01''    SALVATION.  459 

return'?  What!  not  the  love  of  a  worm  for  the  dying 
love  of  a  God !  The  apostle  John  reasons  very  natural- 
ly, when  he  says,  We  love  him,  because  he  first  loved  ns, 

1  John  iv.  19.  Love  for  love  is  but  a  reasonable  retali- 
ation ;  especially  the  love  of  a  redeemed  sinner  for  the 
love  of  a  crucified  Savior.  St.  Paul  felt  the  encrcy  of 
this  love  irresistible :    The  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us, 

2  Cor.  V.  14;  or  according  to  the  emphasis  of  the  origi- 
nal word,*  it  carries  us  away  like  a  resistless  torrent. 
And   it  appeared  to  him  so  shocking,  that  he  could  not 
mention  it  without  weeping,  that  any  should  be  enemies 
to  the  cross  of  Christ:  John  xii.  32.     Hear  what  expect- 
ations he  had  from  the  energy  of  his  cross  who  himself 
hung  upon  it.     "I,"  says  he,  "if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the 
earth,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me."     Phil.  in.  18.     This 
the  evangelist   teaches  us   to  understand  of  the  manner 
of  his  death,  viz.,  his  beingr  raised  up  from  the  earth,  and 
suspended   on  the  cross.     There,  sinners,  he  hung  to  at- 
tract your  love ;  and  can  you  resist  the  force  of  this  at- 
traction,  this   almighty   magnet^      Jesus,    if    I    may    so 
speak,   expects    that   this   will   carryall   before   it:    that 
every  sinner  who  sees  him  hanging  there  will  mimedi- 
ately  melt  into  repentance,  and  be  drawn  to  him  by  the 
cords  of  love.     And  O !   can  you  find  in  your  hearts  to 
resist!     Where   then    is    the   gratitude?     Is   that   gener- 
ous  principle  quite  dead  within  you?      I  must  honestly 
tell  you  if  the  love  of  a  crucified  Savior  does  not  attract 
your  love,  nothing  else  will:   you  will  continue  his  ene- 
mies, and   perish  as  such.      This   is  the  most   powerful 
inducement  that  can  be  proposed  to  you:    all   the  rea- 
sonings of  the   ablest   philosophers,    all   the   persuasions 
of  the  ministers  of  the  gospel,  all  the  goodness  ot  God 
in  creation  and  providence,  will  never  prevail  upon  you, 
if  your   hearts  are  proof  against   the   attraction   of   the 
cross.     But,  blessed  be  his  name  who  died  upon  it,  many 
an  obstinate  and   reluctant   heart   has  this  cross  allured 
and  subdued :  and  O !  that  we  may  all  feel  its  sweet  con- 

3  The  preaching  of  Christ  crucified  gives  such  a  rep- 
resentation of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  the  dreadtul  punish- 
ment  due  to  it,  as  naturally  tends  to  turn  sinners  from  it, 

*  avvix^i-     So  Dr.  Doddridge  translates  it. 


460  TILE    PREACHING     OF    CHRIST    CRUCIP'IED 

and  bring  them  to  repentance.  In  the  Cross  of  Christ 
the  sinner  may  see  what  malignity  there  is  in  sin,  when 
it  brought  such  heavy  vengeance  on  the  head  of  the 
Surety.  There  the  sinner  may  see  how  God  hates  it, 
when  he  punished  it  so  severely  in  his  beloved  Son.  If 
the  almighty  Redeemer  sunk  under  the  load,  how  shall 
the  feeble  sinner  bear  up  under  if?  If  God  spared  not 
his  own  Son,  who  was  but  a  surety,  how  can  the  sinner 
escape,  who  was  the  original  debtor !  O  sinners,  never 
call  it  cruel  that  God  should  punish  you  for  your  sins; 
so  he  dealt  with  Jesus,  his  favorite ;  and  how  can  you 
hope  for  more  favor  ?  Read  the  nature  of  sin  as  written 
in  characters  of  blood  on  the  Cross  of  Christ,  and  surely 
you  can  make  light  of  it  no  more.  You  must  tremble  at 
the  very  thought  of  it ;  and  immediately  reform  and  re- 
pent of  it.  All  the  harangues  of  moralists  upon  the  in- 
trinsic deformity,  the  unreasonableness,  the  incongruity 
of  vice,  never  can  represent  it  in  such  a  shocking  light 
as  you  view  it  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ.  And  can  you 
look  upon  your  sins  piercing  him,  stretching  him  upon 
the  cross,  and  slaughtering  him,  and  yet  not  mourn  over 
them  ?  O  !  can  you  indulge  the  murderous  things  that 
shed  his  blood !  Then  you  practically  pronounce  him 
an  impostor,  and  join  the  cry  of  the  Jewish  rabble,  Cru- 
cify him,  crucify  him, 

4.  The  preaching  of  Christ  crucified  presents  us  with 
such  a  perfect  pattern  of  obedience,  as  has  at  once  the 
force  of  an  example,  and  an  inducement  to  holiness. 
We  need  no  longer  view  the  law  in  theory :  we  see  it 
reduced  into  an  uniform  practice,  and  presented  to  the 
life,  in  the  whole  of  our  Lord's  conduct  towards  God  and 
man.  We  see  one  in  our  nature,  upon  our  guilty  globe, 
in  our  circumstances,  behaving  exactly  agreeable  to  the 
divine  law,  and  leaving  us  an  example  that  we  might  fol- 
low his  steps.  And  shall  we  not  delight  to  imitate  our 
best  friend,  and  the  most  perfect  pattern  that  ever  was 
exhibited  1  O !  how  sweet  to  walk  as  he  walked  in  the 
world,  and  to  trace  the  steps  of  his  lovely  feet !  Until 
the  doctrine  of  the  cross  was  introduced,  the  world  was 
sadly  at  a  loss  about  a  rule  of  duty.  All  the  admired 
writings  of  pagan  antiquity  cannot  furnish  out  one  com- 
plete system  even  of  morality ;  but  here  we  have  a  per- 
fect law,  and  a  perfect  example,  which  has  the  force  of 


THE    MEAN    OF    SALVATION.  461 

a  law.     Therefore,  let  us  be  followers  of  this  incarnate 
God  as  dear  children. 

For  an  Application  : 

1.  Hence  we  may  learn  our  great  happiness  in  enjoy- 
ing the  preaching  of  Christ  crucified.  It  is  but  a  very 
small  part  of  the  world  that  has  heard  this  joyful  sound  ; 
and  the  time  has  been,  Avhen  none  of  the  sons  of  men 
enjoyed  it  in  that  full  evidence  which  we  are  favored 
with.  Now,  since  it  pleases  God  by  this  foolishness  of 
preaching,  to  save  them  that  believe,  since  this  is  the 
most  effectual  mean  for  our  recovery  from  sin  and  ruin 
— how  great,  how  distinguishing,  how  peculiar  is  our 
privilege!  It  becomes  us,  my  brethren,  to  know  our 
happiness  that  we  may  be  thankful.  How  few  among 
the  sons  of  men  enjoy  this  privilege !  How  does  the 
whole  world  lie  in  wickedness !  Alas  !  they  are  fatally 
unconcerned,  or  fruitlessly  anxious  about  a  way  of  re- 
conciliation with  God.  Their  priests  and  philosophers 
can  afford  them  no  relief  in  this  case ;  but  either  mislead 
them  or  increase  their  perplexity.  But  we  have  the 
strongest  assurance  that  God  is  reconcilable  to  us;  and 
the  clearest  discovery  of  the  way.  We  have  the  most 
powerful  inducements  to  repentance,  and  the  most  effect- 
ual restraints  from  sin.  And  what  gratitude  does  this 
call  for  from  us,  to  our  divine  Benefactor !  and  how  so- 
licitous should  we  be  to  make  a  proper  improvement  of 
our  peculiar  advantages ! 

2.  Hence  we  may  learn  the  shocking  guilt  and  danger 
of  our  modern  infidels,  the  Deists,  who,  like  the  Greeks, 
count  the  preaching  of  Christ  cruciffed  foolishness,  and 
deny  the  Lord  that  bought  them.  This  is  to  reject  the 
best,  the  last,  the  only  remedy.  Now,  let  them  consult 
their  feeble  reason;  let  them  go  to  the  oracles  of  wis- 
dom in  the  heathen  world,  and  ask  of  them  how  guilty 
offenders  may  be  restored  into  favor,  in  consistency 
with  the  honor  of  the  divine  perfections  and  govern- 
ment !  Alas,  they  can  find  no  satisfactory  answer. 
Now  also  they  have  lost  the  strongest  motive  to  love 
and  obedience,  when  they  have  turned  away  their  eyes 
from  the  cross.  They  have  lost  the  most  full  aud  amia- 
ble view  of  the  divine  nature  and  perfections  that  ever 


462  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED 

was  exhibited  to  the  world.  Should  they  shut  their 
eyes  against  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  abhor  all  the  beau- 
ties of  nature,  it  would  not  be  such  an  astonishing  in- 
stance of  infatuation.  St.  Paul  represents  it  as  the  most 
amazing  folly,  nay,  a  kind  of  witchcraft  and  incantation, 
that  any  should  desert  the  truth,  that  had  ever  had  the 
least  view  of  Christ  crucified.  "  O  foolish  Galatians ! 
who  hath  bewitched  you,  that  3'ou  should  not  obey  the 
truth,  before  whose  eyes  Jesus  Christ  had  been  evidently 
set  forth,  crucified  among  you  f  Gal.  iii.  1.  What 
wickedness,  what  madness,  what  an  unnatural  conspiracy 
against  their  own  lives  must  it  be  for  men  to  reject  the 
only  expedient  found  out  by  infinite  wisdom  and  good- 
ness for  their  salvation !  What  base  ingratitude  thus  to 
requite  the  dying  love  of  Jesus!  Can  such  monsters 
expect  salvation  from  his  hands  ?  No ;  they  wilfully 
cut  themselves  off  from  all  hope,  and  bring  upon  them- 
selves swift  destruction.  If  the  cross  of  Christ  does  not 
break  their  hearts,  it  is  impossible  to  bring  them  to  re- 
pentance :  the  last  and  most  powerful  remedy  has  proved 
ineffectual ;  the  last  and  strongest  effort  of  divine  grace 
has  been  used  with  them  in  vain.  Since  they  obstinately 
reject  the.  sacrifice  of  Christ,  there  remains  no  other 
sacrifice  for  their  sin,  and  nothing  awaits  them  but  a 
fearful  expectation  of  wrath  and  fiery  indignation,  which 
shall  devour  them  as  adversaries. 

3.  Hence  we  should  inquire  what  effect  the  preaching 
of  Christ  crucified  has  had  upon  us.  Since  this  is  the 
grand  mean  Divine  Wisdom  has  found  out  for  the  re 
covery  of  our  wicked  world,  when  all  other  means  had 
been  in  vain,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us,  that 
we  should  inquire,  whether  it  is  likely  to  answer  this 
end  upon  us.  "It  pleases  God  by  this  foolishness  of 
preaching,  to  save  them  that  believe."  Observe  the 
limitation — them  that  believe.  They,  and  only  they,  can 
be  saved  by  it.  As  for  unbelievers,  they  cannot  be  saved 
in  this  or  any  other  way.  Let  us  then  abandon  every 
other  concern  for  awhile,  and  seriously  examnie  our- 
selves in  this  point.  Faith  comes  by  hearing ;  and  have 
we  been  brought  to  believe  by  hearing  the  preaching  of 
the  cross?  Do  we  relish  this  humble  despised  doctrine 
with  peculiar  pleasure?  Is  it  the  life  and  nourishment 
of  our  souls,  and  the  ground  of  all  our  hopes?     Or  do 


THE    ME\N    OF    SALVATION.  463 

•\ve  secretly  wonder  what  there  can  be  in  it,  that  some 
should  be  so  much  afTected  with  it"?  "To  them  that 
perish,"  says  the  apostle,  and  to  them  only,  "  the  preach- 
ing of  the  cross  is  foolishness."  And  is  that  our  dreadful 
characteristic  ?  Or  does  a  crucified  Christ  appear  to  us  as 
the  wisdom  of  God,  and  the  power  of  God,  as  he  does  to 
all  them  that  believe,  however  different  their  natural 
tastes,  and  the  prejudices  of  their  education,  and  their  out- 
ward circumstances  ?  Do  we  suspend  all  our  hopes  upon 
the  cross  of  Christ  ?  Do  we  glory  in  it  above  all  other 
things,  whatever  contempt  the  world  may  pour  upon  it  ? 
Do  we  feel  our  necessity  of  a  Mediator  in  all  our  transac- 
tions with  God,  and  depend  entirely  upon  the  merit  of  his 
death  for  acceptance,  sensible  that  we  have  no  merit  of  our 
own  to  procure  one  smile  from  God  ?  Have  we  ever 
had  our  hearts  enlightened  to  behold  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  1  Have  we  admired  the 
scheme  of  salvation  through  a  crucified  Jesus,  as  illus- 
trating the  perfections  of  God,  and  securing  the  honor 
of  the  divine  government,  while  it  secures  our  salvation  ? 
And  do  we  delight  in  it  upon  that  account  ?  Or  are  we 
quite  indifferent  about  the  glory  of  God,  if  we  may  be  but 
saved  1  Alas  !  hereby  we  show  we  are  entirely  under  the 
government  of  selfish  principles,  and  have  no  regard  for 
God  at  all.  Do  our  thoughts  frequently  hover  and  clus- 
ter about  the  cross  with  the  tenderest  affections  ?  And 
has  the  view  of  it  melted  our  hearts  into  the  most  in- 
genuous lamentings  for  sin,  and  given  us  such  a  hatred 
against  it,  that  we  can  never  indulge  it  more  ?  My  breth- 
ren, put  such  questions  as  these  home  to  your  hearts,  and 
then  endeavor  to  come  to  some  just  conclusion  with  re- 
gard to  yourselves. — And  if  the  conclusion  be  against  you, 
then, 

4.  Consider  your  guilt  and  danger — consider  your  in- 
gratitude in  rejecting  all  the  love  of  God,  and  a  crucified 
•Savior — ^our  hardness  of  heart,  that  has  not  been  broken 
by  such  a  moving  representation — the  aversion  of  your 
souls  to  God,  that  have  not  been  allured  to  him  by  the 
powerful  attraction  of  the  cross — and  O  !  consider  your 
danger  :  the  last  remedy  has  been  tried  upon  you  in  vain  ; 
Christ's  grand  expedient  for  the  salvation  of  sinners  has 
had  no  efiect  upon  you.  Had  the  religion  of  the  Jews, 
or  of  the  heathen  world,  failed   to  bring  you   to  repent- 


464  THE    PREACHING    OF    CHRIST    CRUCIFIED. 

ance,  there  might  be  still  some  hope  that  the  preaching  of 
Christ  crucified  might  prevail.  But,  alas  !  when  that  fails, 
how  discouraging  is  your  case  !  Therefore,  I  pray  you, 
take  the  alarm,  and  labor  to  get  your  hearts  affected  with 
this  representation.  O  yield  to  the  attraction  of  the  cross  : 
let  him  draw  you  to  himself  whom  you  see  lifted  up  on  it ; 
and  do  not  attempt  such  an  exploit  of  wickedness  as  to  re- 
sist the  allurements  of  such  love.  And  O  !  cry  to  God 
for  his  enlightening  Spirit.  Alas !  it  is  your  blindness  that 
renders  you  unaffected  with  this  moving  object.  Did  you 
but  know  the  Lord  of  glory,  who  was  crucified ;  did  you 
but  see  the  glory  of  the  plan  of  salvation  through  his  suf- 
ferings, you  would  immediately  become  the  captive  of  his 
cross,  conquered  by  the  power  of  his  love.  And  such,  be- 
lieve me,  such  you  must  be,  before  you  can  be  saved.  But 
if  the  result  of  your  examination  turn  out  in  your  favor,  then, 

5.  You  may  entertain  the  joyful  hope  of  salvation  ;  of 
salvation  through  one  that  was  insulted  as  not  able  to  save 
himself;  of  crowns  of  glory  through  him  that  wore  the 
crown  of  thorns  ;  of  fulness  of  joy  through  the  man  of  sor- 
rows ;  of  immortal  life  through  one  that  died  upon  a  cross ; 
I  say,  you  may  entertain  a  joyful  hope  of  all  this ;  for  in 
this  way  of  salvation  there  is  no  hinderance,  no  objection. 
God  will  be  glorified  in  glorifying  you,  the  law  magnified 
in  justifying  you.  In  short,  the  honor  of  God  and  his  gov- 
ernment concur  with  your  interest ;  and,  therefore,  if  you 
heartily  embrace  this  plan  of  salvation,  you  may  be  as 
sure  that  God  will  save  you,  as  that  he  will  take  care  of 
his  own  glory,  for  they  are  inseparably  connected.  And 
do  not  your  hearts,  dead  as  they  are,  spring  within  you 
at  the  thought  ]  Do  you  not  long  to  see  your  Savior 
on  the  throne,  to  whose  cross  you  are  indebted  for  all 
your  hopes  '?  And  O  !  will  you  not  praise  his  name  while 
you  live,  and  continue  the  song  through  all  eternity  ?  Are 
you  not  ready  to  anticipate  the  anthem  of  heaven.  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and 
2visdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing  : 
for  thou  hast  redeemed  us  unto  God  by  thy  blood?  Kev.  v. 
9,  12. 

I'inally,  let  me  congratulate^''  my  reverend   brethren, 

*  The  author,  towards  the  end  of  the  discourse,  writes,  "  At  a  Presby- 
tery in  Augusta,  April  'J5,  1759  ;"  which  accounts  for  this  particular  ad- 
dress to  ministers. 


INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD.  465 

on  their  being  made  ministers  of  the  New  Testament, 
Avhich  reveals  that  glorious  and  delightful  subject,  Christ 
crucified,  in  full  light,  and  difluses  it  through  all  their  stud- 
ies and  discourses.  The  Lamb  that  was  slain  is  the  theme 
that  animates  the  songs  of  angels  and  saints  alcove,  and 
even  our  unhallowed  lips  are  allowed  to  touch  it  without 
proflmation.  Let  us,  therefore,  my  dear  brethren,  delight 
to  dwell  upon  it.  Let  us  do  justice  to  the  refined  morality 
of  the  gospel ;  let  us  often  explain  and  enforce  the  precepts, 
the  graces,  and  the  virtues  of  Christianity  ;  and  teach  men 
to  live  righteously,  soberly,  and  godly  in  the  world.  But 
let  us  do  this  in  an  evangelical  strain,  as  ministers  of  the 
crucified  Jesus,  and  not  as  the  scholars  of  Epictetus  or 
Seneca.  Let  us  labor  to  bring  men  to  a  hearty  compliance 
with  the  method  of  salvation  through  Christ ;  and  then  we 
shall  find  it  comparatively  an  easy  matter,  a  thing  of 
course,  to  make  them  good  moralists.  Then  a  short  hint 
of  their  duty  to  God  and  man  will  be  more  forcible  than 
whole  volumes  of  ethics,  while  their  spirits  are  not  cast  in 
the  gospel-mould.  Thus  may  we  be  enabled  to  go  on,  till 
our  great  Master  shall  take  our  charge  oft'  our  hands,  and 
call  us  to  give  an  account  of  our  stewardship  ! 


SERMON  XXY. 

INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD    AN    HEINOUS    BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY. 

2  Chron.  XXXII.  25. — But  Hezekiah  rendered  not  again  ac- 
cording to  the  benefit  done  unto  him. 

Among  the  many  vices  that  are  at  once  universally  de- 
cried, and  universally  practised  in  the  world,  there  is 
none  more  base  or  more  common  than  ingratitude ;  in- 
gratitude towards  the  supreme  Benefactor,  higratitude 
is  the  sin  of  individuals,  of  families,  of  churches,  of  king- 
doms, and  even  of  all  mankind.  The  guilt  of  ingrati- 
tude lies  heavy  upon  the  whole  race  of  men,  though 
alas  !  but  few  of  them  feel  and  lament  it.     I  have  felt  it 


466  INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD    AN    HEINOUS 

of  late  with  unusual  weight ;  and  it  is  the  weight  of  it 
that  now  extorts  a  discourse  from  me  upon  this  sub- 
ject. If  the  plague  of  an  ungrateful  heart  mast  cleave  to 
us  while  in  this  world  of  sin  and  imperfection,  let  us  at 
least  lament  it ;  let  us  bear  witness  against  it ;  let  us 
condemn  ourselves  for  it ;  and  let  us  do  all  we  can  to 
suppress  it  in  ourselves.  I  feel  myself,  as  it  were,  exas- 
perated, and  fall  of  indignation  against  it,  and  against 
myself,  as  guilty  of-  it.  And  in  the  bitterness  of  my 
spirit,  I  shall  endeavor  to  expose  it  to  your  view  in  its 
proper  infernal  colors,  as  an  object  of  horror  and  indigna- 
tion. 

None  of  us  can  flatter  ourselves  that  we  are  in  little  or 
no  danger  of  this  sin,  when  even  so  good  and  great  a  man 
as  Hezekiah  did  not  escape  the  infection.  In  the  memoirs 
of  his  life,  which  are  illustrious  for  piety,  zeal  for  reforma- 
tion, victory  over  his  enemies,  glory  and  importance  at 
home  and  abroad,  this,  alas  !  is  recorded  of  him,  "  That  he 
rendered  not  again  to  his  divine  Benefactor  according  to  the 
henejit  done  unto  him  ;  for  his  heart  was  lifted  up,  there- 
fore there  was  wrath  upon  him,  and  upon  Judah  and  Jeru- 
salem." 

Many  had  been  the  blessings  and  deliverances  of  this 
good  man's  life.  I  shall  only  particularize  two,  record- 
ed in  this  chapter.  The  Assyrians  had  overrun  a  great 
part  of  the  country,  and  intended  to  lay  siege  to  Jeru- 
salem. Their  haughty  monarch,  who  had  carried  all 
before  him,  and  was  grown  insolent  with  success,  sent 
Hezekiah  a  blasphemous  letter,  to  intimidate  him  and 
his  people.  He  profanely  bullies  and  defies  Hezekiah 
and  his  God  together  ;  and  Rabshakeh,  his  messenger, 
comments  upon  his  master's  letter  in  the  same  style  of 
impiety  and  insolence.  But  here  observe  the  signal  effi- 
cacy of  prayer  !  Hezekiah,  Isaiah,  and  no  doubt  many 
other  pious  people  among  the  Jews,  made  their  prayer 
to  the  God  of  Israel  ;  and,  as  it  were,  complained  to 
him  of  the  threatenings  and  profane  blasphemy  of  the 
Assyrian  monarch.  Jehovah  hears,  and  works  a  miracu- 
lous deliverance  for  them.  He  sends  out  an  angel  (one 
was  sufficient),  who  destroyed  in  one  night,  as  we  are 
elsewhere  told,  (2  Kings  xix.  35,)  no  less  than  a  hun- 
dred fourscore  and  five  thousand  men ;  which  extensive 
slaughter,   a  Jewish    tradition    tells   us,    was    made   by 


BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY.  467 

means  of  lightning,  a  very  supjDosable  and  suflicient  cause. 
Sennacherib,  with  the  thin  remains  of  his  army,  fled  home 
inglorious  ;  and  his  two  sons  assassinated  him  at  an  idola- 
trous altar.  Thus  Jerusalem  was  freed  from  danger,  and 
the  country  rescued  from  slavery  and  the  ravages  of  war. 
Nay,  we  find  from  profane  history,  that  this  dreadful 
blow  proved  fatal  in  the  issue  to  the  Assyrian  monarchy, 
which  had  oppressed  the  world  so  long  ;  for  upon  this  the 
Medes,  and  afterwards  other  nations,  threw  olif  their  sub- 
mission ;  and  the  empire  fell  to  pieces.  Certainly  so 
illustrious  a  deliverance  as  this,  wrought  immediately  by 
the  divine  hand,  was  a  sufficient  reason  for  ardent  grati- 
tude. 

Another  deliverance  followed  upon  this.  Ilezekiah  was 
sick  unto  death ;  that  is,  his  sickness  was  in  its  own  nature 
mortal,  and  would  have  been  unto  death,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  miraculous  interposition  of  Providence.  But,  upon 
his  prayer  to  God,  he  was  recovered,  and  fifteen  years 
added  to  his  life.  This  also  was  great  cause  of  gratitude. 
And  we  find  it  had  this  effect  upon  him,  while  the  sense 
of  his  deliverance  was  fresh  upon  his  mind  ;  for  in  his  eu- 
charistic  song  upon  his  recovery,  we  find  these  grateful 
strains  :  TJie  living^  the  living^  he  shall  praise  thee^  as  I  do 
this  dag :  the  father  to  the  children  shall  make  known  thy 
truth.  The  Lord  was  ready  to  save  me  :  therefore  we  will 
sing  my  songs  to  the  stringed  instruments  all  the  days  of  our 
life.  But,  alas !  those  grateful  imjjressions  wore  off  in 
some  time ;  and  pride,  that  uncreaturely  temper,  began  to 
rise.  He  began  to  think  himself  the  favorite  of  Heaven, 
in  some  degree,  on  account  of  his  own  personal  goodness. 
He  indulged  his  vanity  in  ostentatiously  ex^^osing  his  trans- 
ures  to  the  Babylonian  messengers;  which  was  tlie  instance 
of  selfish  pride  and  I.igratitude  that  seems  here  particularly- 
referred  to. 

This  pride  and  mgratitude  passed  not  without  evidences 
of  the  divine  indignation  ;  for  we  are  told,  therefore  there 
was  wrath  upon  him^  and  upon  Judah  and  Jerusalem.  As 
the  crime  was  not  peculiar  to  him,  so  neither  is  the  pun- 
ishment. Nations  and  individuals  have  suffered  in  this 
manner  from  age  to  age  ;  and  under  the  guilt  of  it  we  and 
our  country  are  now  languishing. 

In  order  to  make  you  the  more  sensible  of  your  in- 
gratitude  towards  your  Divine  Benefactor,  I  shall  give 


468         INGRATITUDE  TO  GOD  AN  HEINOUS 

you  a  brief  view  of  his  mercies  towards  j^ou,  and  expose 
the  aggravated  baseness  of  ingratitude  under  the  reception 
of  so  many  mercies. 

Mercy  has  poured  in  upon  you  upon  all  sides,  and  fol- 
lowed you  from  the  first  commencement  of  your  exist- 
ence ;    rich,   various,   free,    repeated,    uninterrupted    mer- 
cy.     The  i)lessings  of  a  body  wonderfully  and  fearful- 
ly  made,   complete  in  all  its  parts,   and  not  monstrous 
in  any  ;  the  blessings  of  a  rational,  immortal  soul,  pre- 
served in  the  exercise  of  sound  reason  for  so  many  years, 
amid  all  those  accidents  that  have  shattered  it  in  others, 
and  capable  of  the  exalted  pleasure  of  religion,  and  the 
everlasting  enjoyment  of  the  blessed  God,  the  Supreme 
Good  :  the  blessing  of  a  large  and  spacious  world,  prepar- 
ed and   furnished   for  our   accommodation  ;    illuminated 
with  an  illustrious  sun,  and  the  many  luminaries  of  the 
sky  :  the  earth  enriched  and  adorned  with  trees,  vegeta^ 
bles,  various  sorts  of  grain,  and  animals,  for  our  support 
or   convenience  ;    and    the    sea,    a   medium   of  extensive 
trade,  and  an  inexhaustible  store  of  fishes  :  the  blessing 
of  the  early  care  of  parents  and  friends,  to  provide  for 
us  in  the  helpless  days  of  infancy,  and  direct  or  restrain 
us  in  the  giddy,  precipitant  years  of  youth  :  the  blessing 
of  being  born  in  the  adult  age  of  the   world,  when  the 
improvements  of  art  are  carried  to  so  high  a  degree  of 
perfection  ;   of  being  born,  not  among  savages   in  a  wil- 
derness, but  in  a  humanized,   civilized  country  ;   not  on 
the  burning,  sandy  deserts  of  the  torrid  zone,  nor  under 
the  frozen  sky  of  Lapland  or  Iceland,  but  in  a  temperate 
climate,  as  favorable  to  the  comfort  and  continuance  of 
life  as  most  countries  upon  earth ;  not  in  a  barren  soil, 
scarcely  affording  provision  of  the  coarsest  sort   for   its 
inhabitants,   but  in  a   land   of  unusual   plenty,   that  has 
never  felt  the  severities  of  famine  :  the  blessing  of  not  be- 
ing a  race  of  slaves,  under  the  tyranny  of  an  arbitrary 
government,  but   free-born  Britons   and  Virginians  in  a 
land  of  liberty  :  these  birtii-right  blessings  are  almost  pe- 
culiar  to  us   and  our  nation.     Let   me   enumerate   also 
the  blessing  of  a  good  education  ;  good,   at  least,  when 
compared  to  the  many  savage  nations  of  the  earth ;  the 
blessing  of  health  for  months  and  years ;    the   blessing 
of  raiment  suited  to  the  various  seasons  of  the  year  ;  the 
blessings  of  rain  from   heaven,   and   fruitful   seasons,    of 


BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY.  4G9 

summer  and  winter,  of  seed-time  cand  harvest ;  the  ai^rec- 
able  vicissitude  of  night  and  day  ;  the  refreshing  repose 
of  sleep,  and  the  activity  and  enjoyment  of  our  waking 
hours,   the   numerous   and   refined    blessings   of   society, 
and  the  most  endearing  relations  ;  the  ])lessings  included 
in  the  tender  names  of  friend,  husband  or  wife,  parent  or 
child,   brother  or  sister ;  the  blessings  of  peace  ;    peace, 
in   the  midst  of  a  peaceful  country,  which  has  been  our 
happy  lot  till  of  late  years  :  or  peace,  in  the  midst  of  a 
ravaged  bleeding  country,  which  is  a  more  distinguished 
and  singular  blessing,  and   which   we  now   enjoy,   while 
many    of    our   fellow-subjects    feel    a    terrible    reverse  ; 
blessings  in  every  age   of  life ;  in  infancy,  in  youth,  in 
adult  age,  and  in  the  decays  of  old  age ;  blessings  by 
sea  and  land,  and  in  every  country  where  we  have  re- 
sided ;  in  short,  blessings  as  numerous  as  our  moments, 
as  long-continued   as    our  lives ;    blessings    personal  and 
relative,  public  and  private ;  for  while  we  have  the  air  to 
breathe  in,  the  earth  to  tread  upon,  or  a  drop  of  water 
to  quench  our  thirst,  we  must  own  we  are  not  left  desti- 
tute of  blessings  from  God.     From  God,  I  say,  all  these 
blessings  originally  flow ;  and  to  him  we  are  principally 
obliged  for  them.     Indeed,  they  are  conveyed  to  us  by 
means  of  our  fellow-creatures ;  or  they  seem  to  be  the 
spontaneous    productions    of   natural    causes,    acting   ac- 
cording to  the  established  laws  of  nature.     But  then  it 
was  God,   the  Fountain  of  being  and  of  all  good,  that 
gave    our   fellow-creatures    the    disposition,   the    ability, 
and   the    opportunity    of   conveying    these   blessings    to 
us ;  and  it  is  the  great  God  who  is  the  Author  of  those 
causes  which  spontaneously  produce   so  many  blessings 
for   our   enjoyment,    and   of   those    laws   of    nature,    ac- 
cording  to   which   they   act.      These    are    but   channels, 
channels  cut  by  his   hand ;    and   he   is   the   source,    the 
ocean  of  blessings.      Creatures   are  but  the   hands   that 
distribute  his  charity  through  a  needy  world  ;  but  his  is 
the    store    from    which   they   derive    their    supplies.      On 
this  account  therefore  we  should  receive  all  these  bless- 
ings as  gifts  from  God,  and  feel  ourselves  obliged  to  him, 
as  the  supreme  original  Benefactor.     Besides,  it  is  very 
probable  to   me,  that  in  order  to  bestow  some  of  these 
blessings  upon  us  by  means  of  natural  causes,  God  may 
give  these  causes   a   touch    to   turn   them   in   our  favor 


470  IN&RATITUDE    TO    GOD    AN    HENIOUS 

more  than  they  would  be  according  to  the  established 
course  of  nature ;  a  touch  so  efficacious  as  to  answer 
the  kind  design  ;  though  so  gentle  and  agreeable  to  the 
established  laws  of  nature,  as  not  to  be  perceivable,  or  to 
cast  the  system  of  nature  into  disorder.  The  blessings 
conveyed  in  this  way  are  not  only  the  gifts  of  his  hand, 
but  the  gifts  of  his  immediate  hand. 

Therefore  let  God  be  acknowledged  the  supreme, 
the  original  Beneflictor  of  the  world,  and  the  proper 
Author  of  all  our  blessings ;  and  let  all  his  creatures,  in 
the  height  of  their  benevolence  and  usefulness,  own  that 
they  are  but  the  distributors  of  his  alms,  or  the  instru- 
ments of  conveying  the  gifts  of  his  hand.  Let  us  ac- 
knowledge the  light  of  yonder  sun,  the  breath  that  now 
heaves  our  lungs,  and  fans  the  vital  flame,  the  growing 
plenty  that  is  now  bursting  its  way  through  the  clods  of 
earth,  the  water  that  bubbles  up  in  springs,  that  flows  in 
streams  and  rivers,  or  rolls  at  large  in  the  ocean  ;  let 
us  own,  I  say,  that  all  these  are  the  bounties  of  his  hand, 
who  supplies  with  good  the  various  ranks  of  being,  as 
high  as  the  most  exalted  angel,  and  as  low  as  the  young 
ravens,  and  the  grass  of  the  field.  Let  him  stand  as  the 
acknowledged  Benefiictor  of  the  universe  to  inflame  the 
gratitude  of  all  to  him,  or  to  array  in  the  crimson  colors 
of  aggravated  guilt  the  ingratitude  of  those  sordid,  stupid 
wretches,  who  still  continue  unthankful. 

The  positive  blessings  I  have  briefly  enumerated,  have 
some  of  them  been  interrupted  at  times ;  but  even  the 
interruption  seemed  only  intended  to  make  way  for 
some  deliverance ;  a  deliverance  that  reinstated  us  in 
the  possession  of  our  former  blessings  with  a  new  and 
stronger  relish,  and  taught  us,  or  at  least  was  adapted  to 
teach  us  some  useful  lessons,  which  we  were  not  likely 
to  learn,  had  not  our  enjoyment  been  awhile  suspended. 
This  very  hour  let  us  turn  our  eyes  backward,  and  take 
a  review  of  a  length  of  ten,  twenty,  forty,  or  sixty  years  ; 
and  what  a  series  of  deliverances  rise  upon  us  !  Deliver- 
ances from  the  many  dangers  of  childhood,  by  which 
many  have  lost  their  limbs,  and  many  their  lives ; 
deliverances  from  many  threatening  and  fatal  accidents ; 
deliverances  from  excpiisite  pains,  and  from  danger- 
ous diseases  ;  deliverances  from  the  gates  of  death,  and 
the  mouth  of  the  grave ;  and  deliverances  for  yourselves, 


BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY.  471 

and  for  your  clear  families  and  friends  !  When  sickness, 
like  a  destroying  angel,  has  entered  your  neighborhood, 
and  made  extensive  liavoc  and  desolation  around  you, 
you  and  yours  have  escaped  the  infection,  while  you 
were  every  day  in  anxious  expectation  of  the  dreadful 
visit,  and  trembling  at  the  dubious  flite  of  some  denr 
relative  or  your  own  ;  or  if  it  has  entered  your  houses, 
like  a  messenger  of  death,  it  has  not  committed  its  usual 
ravages  in  them.  Or  if  it  has  torn  from  your  hearts  one 
or  more  members  of  your  flimily,  still  you  have  some 
left,  or  perhaps  some  new  memljers  added  to  make  up 
the  loss.  When  you  have  been  in  deep  distress,  and 
covered  with  the  most  tremendous  glooms,  deliverance 
has  dawned  in  the  most  seasonable  hour,  and  light  and 
joy  have  succeeded  to  nights  of  darkness  and  melan- 
choly. In  short,  your  deliverances  have  been  endless 
and  innumerable.  You  appear  this  day  so  many  monu- 
ments of  delivering  goodness.  You  have  also  shared  in 
the  deliverances  wrought  for  your  country  and  nation  in 
former  and  latter  times  :  deliverances  from  the  open  vio- 
lences and  clandestine  plots  and  insurrections  of  enemies 
abroad,  and  traitors  and  rebels  at  home  :  deliverances  from 
the  united  efforts  of  both,  to  subvert  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, and  to  enslave  free-born  Britons  to  civil  or  ecclesias- 
tical tyranny,  or  a  medley  of  both ;  and  deliverances 
from  drought,  and  the  threatening  appearances  of 
famine,  which  we  have  so  lately  experienced  in  these 
parts  ;  and  yet  they  are  long  enough  past  to  be  generally 
forgotten ! 

In  these  instances  of  deliverances,  as  well  as  in  the 
former,  of  positive  blessings,  let  the  great  God  be  ac- 
knowledged the  original  efficient,  whatever  creatures  he 
is  pleased  to  make  use  of  as  his  instruments.  Fortuitous 
accidents  are  under  his  direction  ;  and  necessary  causes 
are  subject  to  his  control.  Diseases  are  his  servants,  his 
soldiers ;  and  he  sends  them  out,  or  recalls  them  accord- 
ing to  his  pleasure. 

And  now  mention  the  benefactor  if  you  can,  to  whom 
you  are  a  thousandth  part  so  much  obliged  as  to  this 
Benefactor.  What  a  profusion  of  blessings  and  deliver- 
ances has  the  Almighty  made  you  a  subject  of!  And 
O  !  what  obligations  of  gratitude  do  such  favors  lay 
upon    you  !      What    ardent   love,    what   sincere   thanks- 


472  INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD    AN    HEINOUS 

giving,  what  affectionate  duty  do  they  require  of  you  ! 
These  are  the  cords  of  love,  the  bonds  of  a  man,  wherewith 
he  would  draw  you  to  obedience. 

Dare  you  now  make  the  inquiry,  What  returns  has 
this  divine  Benefactor  received  from  you  for  all  this  good- 
ness 1  Alas  !  the  discovery  which  this  inquiry  will  m.ake, 
may  convict,  shock,  confound,  and  mortify  us  all ;  for  we 
are  all,  in  a  prodigious  degree,  though  some  much  more 
than  others,  guilty  in  this  respect,  guilty  of  the  vilest  in- 
gratitude. Alas  !  are  there  not  many  of  you  that  do  not 
return  to  God  the  gratitude  of  a  dog  to  his  master  1 
That  brute  animal  who  receives  but  crumbs  and  blows 
from  you,  will  welcome  you  home  with  a  thousand  fond 
and  obliging  motions.  The  very  dull  ox  you  fodder, 
knows  his  owner.  But  O  !  the  more  than  brutal  ingrati- 
tude of  reasonable  creatures  !  Some  of  you,  perhaps,  do 
not  so  much  as  acknowledge  the  agency  of  Providence  in 
these  enjoyments  ;  but,  affecting  a  very  unphilosophical 
infidelity  under  the  name  of  philosophy,  you  make  natu- 
ral causes  the  authors  of  all  good  to  you,  without  the 
agency  of  the  first  Mover  of  all  the  springs  of  nature. 
Others  of  you,  who  may  be  orthodox  in  your  faith  as  to 
this  point,  yet  are  practical  infidels,  the  most  absurd  and 
inconsistent  sort  in  the  world  ;  that  is,  while  you  certainly 
acknowledge,  and  speculatively  believe  the  agency  of 
Providence  in  these  things,  yet  you  live  as  if  there  were 
no  such  thing  ;  you  live  thoughtless  of  the  divine  Benefac- 
tor, and  disobedient  to  him  for  days  and  years  together. 
The  very  mercies  he  bestows  upon  you,  you  abuse  to  his 
dishonor,  by  making  them  occasions  of  sin.  Do  not  your 
consciences  now  convict  you  of  that  monster  sin,  ingrati- 
tude, the  most  base,  unnatural,  and  yet  indulged  ingrati- 
tude 1  How  do  you  resent  it,  if  one  whom  you  have  deep- 
ly obliged  should  prove  ungrateful,  and  use  you  ill  ?  But 
it  is  impossible  any  one  of  your  fellow-creatures  should  be 
guilty  of  such  enormous  ingratitude  towards  you  as  you 
are  guilty  of  towards  God  ;  because  it  is  impossible  any 
one  of  them  should  be  so  strongly  obliged  to  you  as  you 
are  to  him. 

Ye  children  of  God,  his  peculiar  favorites,  whose  hearts 
are  capable  of,  and  do  actually  feel  some  generous  sen- 
sations of  gratitude,  what  do  you  think  of  your  con- 
duct towards  such  a  Benefactor  ?      J  speak  particularly 


BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY.  473 

to  you,  because  you  are  most  likely  to  feel  what  I  say. 
Have  you  rendered  again  to  your  God  according  to  the 
benefits  done  you  ?  O  !  are  you  not  mortified  and  shock- 
ed to  reflect  upon  your  ingratitude,  your  sordid  mon- 
strous ingratitude  ?  Do  you  not  abhor  yourselves  be- 
cause you  were  capable  of  such  base  conduct  ?  From 
you  I  expect  such  a  generous  resentment.  But,  as  to 
others,  they  are  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  dead  to- 
ward God,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  if  they  are  dead 
to  all  penitential  ingenuous  relentings  for  their  ingrati- 
tude. 

But  if  all  this  does  not  suffice  to  make  you  sensible 
of  your  enormous  guilt  in  this  particular,  let  me  lay  be- 
fore you  an  inventory  of  still  richer  blessings.  At  the 
head  of  this  stands  Jesus  Christ,  the  unspeakable  gift  of 
God.  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  (hear  it,  men  and  an- 
gels, with  grateful  wonder.)  as  to  give  his  only-begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life."  John  iii.  16.  "God  sent  his 
Son  into  the  world,  not  to  condemn  the  world,  but  that 
the  world  through  him,  might  be  saved."  John  iii.  17. 
The  comforts  of  this  life  alone  would  be  a  very  inade- 
quate provision  for  creatures  who  are  to  exist  forever 
in  another  ;  for  what  are  sixty  or  seventy  years  in  the 
long  duration  of  an  immortal  being  !  But  in  the  un- 
searchable riches  of  Christ  are  contained  the  most  ample 
provisions  for  your  immortal  state.  Jesus  Christ  is  such 
a  gift  as  draws  all  other  gifts  after  it ;  for  so  the  apostle 
argues,  "  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  gave  him  up 
for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us 
all  things."  Rom.  viii.  32.  And  the  purposes  for  which 
he  gave  this  gift,  render  it  the  more  astonishing.  He  gave 
him  not  only  to  rule  us  by  his  power,  but  to  purchase  us 
with  the  blood  of  his  heart.  He  gave  him  up  to  death, 
even  the  death  of  the  cross.  In  consequence  of  which  an 
economy  of  grace,  a  ministry  of  reconciliation,  is  set  up 
in  our  guilty  world.  Various  means  are  appointed,  and 
various  endeavors  are  used  to  save  you,  perishing  sin- 
ners. For  your  salvation  Jesus  now  intercedes  in  his 
native  heaven,  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  For  your  sal- 
vation the  Holy  Spirit  strives  with  you  ;  conscience  ad- 
monishes you  ;  Providence  draws  you  by  blessings,  and 
drives  you  by  chastisements  ;   angels  minister  to  you  ; 


474  INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD    AN    HEINOUS 

Bibles  are  put  into  your  hands  ;  ministers  persuade  you  ; 
f\'iends  advise  you  ;  and  thousands  of  saints  pray  for  you. 
For  this  end,  prayer,  preaching,  baptism,  and  the  Lord's 
supper,  and  a  great  variety  of  means  of  grace,  are  insti- 
tuted. For  this  end,  heaven  is  prepared  and  furnished 
with  many  mansions  ;  the  pearly  gates  open,  and  dart 
their  splendors  from  afar  to  attract  our  eyes ;  and  things 
which  the  eye,  which  has  seen  so  many  things,  had  never 
seen  ;  which  the  ear,  that  has  had  still  more  extensive  in- 
telligence, had  never  heard  ;  nor  the  heart  of  man,  which 
is  even  unbounded  in  its  conceptions,  had  never  conceived, 
are  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel.  Nay,  for  this  pur- 
pose, your  salvation,  Sinai  thunders,  hell  roars  and  throws 
its  devouring  flames,  even  to  warn  a  stupid  world  not 
to  plunge  themselves  into  that  place  of  torment.  In 
short,  the  kind  designs  of  redeeming;  love  run  through  the 
whole  economy  of  Providence  towards  our  world.  Heav- 
en and  earth,  and,  in  the  sense  mentioned,  hell  itself, 
are  trying  to  save  you.  The  strongholds  of  sin  and 
Satan,  in  which  you  are  held  prisoners,  are  attacked 
in  kindness  to  you  from  all  quarters.  What  beneficent 
efforts,  what  heroic  exploits  of  divine  goodness  are 
these  !  And,  blessed  be  God,  these  efforts  are  not  in 
vain. 

The  celestial  regions  are  fiist  peopling,  though,  alas  ! 
not  so  fxst  as  the  land  of  darkness,  with  numerous  colo- 
nies from  our  guilty  globe.  Even  in  these  dregs  of  time, 
when  iniquity  abounds,  and  the  love  of  many  waxes  cold, 
Jesus  is  gaining  many  hearts  and  saving  many  souls,  in 
the  various  apartments  of  his  church.  Though  you  and 
thousands  more  should  be  left,  and  continue  to  neglect,  yet 
such  excellency  shall  not  want  admirers,  such  a  Physician 
shall  not  want  employ  in  our  dying  world.  No,  "  he  shall 
see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied  ;  and 
the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  his  hand."  Isa. 
liii.  11.  And  I  doubt  not  but  there  are  some  among  you 
who  are  the  trophies  of  his  victorious  love — of  his  victo- 
rious love,  1  say  ;  for  it  is  by  the  force  of  love  he  sweetly 
conquers. 

Now  you,  my  brethren,  are  the  subjects  of  this  admin- 
istration of  grace  ;  with  you,  these  means  are  used  for 
your  salvation  ;  to  you  Jesus  is  offered  as  a  Savior  ;  and 
heaven  and  earth  arc  striving  to   lodge  you  safe  in  his 


BUT    GENERAL    INIQUITV.  475 

arms.  Yon  should  not  rejoice  in  the  wants  of  others  ; 
hut  certainly  it  may  make  you  the  more  sensible  of 
yonr  peculiar  obligations,  to  reflect  that  your  lot,  in  this 
respect,  is  singular.  It  is  but  a  very  small  part  of  man- 
kind that  enjoy  these  great  advantages  for  a  happy  immor- 
tality. Yon  live  under  the  gospel,  whilst  the  most  of  the 
nations  of  the  earth  are  sunk  in  heathen  idolatry,  groaning 
under  Popish  tyranny,  seduced  by  Mahometan  imposture, 
or  hardened  in  Jewish  infidelity. 

And  what  peculiar  obligations  of  gratitude  result  from 
such  peculiar  distinguishing  favors  ?  Men  have  obliged 
you,  and  you  feel  the  obligation.  But  can  men,  can  an- 
gels, can  the  whole  created  universe  bestow  such  gifts 
upon  you,  and  make  such  provisions  for  you,  as  those 
which  have  been  mentioned?  Gifts  of  infinite  value, 
dear  to  the  Giver ;  provisions  for  an  everlasting  state  ; 
an  everlasting  state  of  as  complete  happiness  as  your 
nature,  in  its  highest  improvements,  is  capable  of.  These 
are  favors  worthy  of  God ;  flivors  that  bespeak  him  God. 
And  must  he  not  then  be  the  object  of  your  supreme 
gratitude  1  Can  anything  in  the  world  be  more  rea;5on- 
able  ] 

And  yet — hear,  O  earth,  with  horror ;  be  astonished,  O 
ye  heavens,  at  this  :  be  ye  horribly  afraid  !  how  little  grati- 
tude does  God  receive  from  our  world  after  all!  How 
little  gratitude  from  you,  on  whom  these  favors  are  show- 
ered down  with  distinguished  profusion  !  Do  not  many 
of  you  neglect  the  unspeakable  gift  of  God,  Jesus  Christ, 
as  well  as  that  salvation  which  he  bought  with  his  blood  ? 
Do  you  not  ungratefully  neglect  the  means  of  your  salva- 
tion, and  resist  the  generous  elibrts  that  are  usetl,  from  all 
quarter^,  to  save  you  !  O !  the  mountainous  load  of  in- 
gratitude that  lies  upon  you  !  enough  to  sink  the  whole 
w^orld  into  the  depth  of  hell. 

But  1  must  now  address  such  of  you,  who  are  still 
more  deeply  obliged  to  your  divine  Benefactor,  and 
whose  ingratitude  therefore  is  black  and  horrid  ;  I  mean 
such  of  you  who  have  not  only  shared  in  the  blessings 
and  deliverances  of  life,  and  lived  under  the  advantages 
of  a  dispensation  of  grace,  but  have  experimentuliy 
known  the  love  of  God  to  your  souls  in  a  manner  pecu- 
liar to  yourselves,  and  are  actually  entitled  to  all  the  un- 
known  blessings  prepared  for  those  that  love  him.     It'  I 


476  INGRATITUDE    TO    GOD    HEINOUS 

am  so  happy  as  to  belong  to  your  number,  I  am  sure  I 
am  so  unhappy  as  to  share  deeply  with  you  in  the  guilt, 
the  black  guilt  of  ingratitude.  When  you  were  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins,  God  quickened  you,  out  of  his  great 
love  wherewith  he  loved  you.  When  you  were  rushing 
on  towards  destruction,  in  the  enchanting  paths  of  sin, 
he  checked  your  mad  career,  and  turned  your  faces 
heavenward.  When  you  were  sunk  into  sorrows,  borne 
down  with  a  sense  of  guilt,  and  trembling  every  moment 
with  the  fears  of  immediate  execution,  he  relieved  you, 
led  you  to  Jesus,  and,  as  it  were,  lodged  you  safe  in  his 
arms.  When  dismal  glooms  have  again  gathered  upon 
your  minds,  and  overwhelming  fears  rushed  again  upon 
you  like  a  deluge,  he  has  relieved  you  again  by  lead- 
ing you  to  the  same  almighty  and  ever-constant  Saviour. 
When  your  graces  and  virtues  have  withered  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  Son  of  righteousness,  he  has  again  risen 
upon  you  w^ith  healing  in  his  wings,  and  revived  your 
languishing  souls.  He  has  shed  abroad  his  love  in  your 
hearts,  which  has  made  this  wretched  wilderness  a  para- 
dise to  you.  He  has,  at  times,  afforded  you,  as  you  hum- 
J^iy  hoped,  joy  and  peace  in  believing  ;  yea,  even  caused 
you  to  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable^  and  full  of  glory. 
He  has  met  you  in  your  retirements,  and  allowed  you  to 
converse  with  him  in  his  ordinances,  with  the  heart  of  a 
friend.  He  has,  as  it  were,  unlocked  his  peculiar  treas- 
ures to  enrich  you,  and  given  you  an  unshaken  title  to 
the  most  glorious  inheritance  of  the  saints  of  light.  He 
has  made  you  his  own,  his  own  in  a  peculiar  sense :  his 
people,  his  friends,  his  children.  You  are  indeed  his  fa- 
vorites :  you  were  even  so,  long  before  time  began.  He 
loved  you  with  an  everlasting  love,  therefore  with  lov- 
ing kindness  has  he  drawn  you ;  and  having  loved  you 
once  he  will  love  you  always,  and  he  will  continue  in 
his  love  to  all  eternity.  '•  Neither  life,  nor  death,  things 
present,  nor  things  to  come,  shall  ever  be  able  to  separate 
you  from  his  love."  Kom.  viii.  38,  39.  His  love  to  you 
is  an  unbounded  ocean,  that  spreads  over  eternity,  and 
makes  it,  as  it  were,  the  channel  of  the  ocean  of  your 
happiness.  In  you  he  intends  to  show  to  all  worlds 
what  glorious  creatures  he  can  form  of  the  dust,  and  of 
the  polluted  fragments  of  degenerate  human  nature. 
What   is   all    the   profession  of  kings  to   their   favorites, 


DUT    GENERAL    INIQUITY.  477 

what  are  all  the  benetactions  of  creatures,  nay,  what  are 
all  the  bounties  of  the  divine  hand  itself  within  the  com- 
pass of  time,  when  compared  to  these  astonishing,  un- 
paralleled, immortal,  infinite,  God-like  favors'?  They  all 
dwindle  into  obscurity,  like  the  stars  of  night  in  the  blaze 
of  noon. 

And  now  I  am  almost  afraid  to  turn  your  thoughts  to 
inquire,  what  return  you  have  made  for  all  these  favors, 
lest  you  should  not  be  able  to  bear  the  shock.  You 
know  you  have  a  thousand  times  repeated  Hezekiah's 
offence.  I  need  not  be  particular.  Your  conscience 
accuses  you,  and  points  out  the  particulars ;  and  I 
shall  only  join  the  cry  of  conscience  against  you. 
O !  the  ingratitude !  O !  the  base,  vile,  unnatural, 
horrid,  unprecedented  nigratitude !  From  you  your 
God  might  have  expected  better  things ;  from  you, 
whom  he  has  so  peculiarly,  so  infinitely  obliged,  and 
whose  hearts  he  has  made  capable  of  generous  sensa- 
tions. But  O  !  the  shocking,  horrid  ingratitude  !  Let 
our  hearts  burst  into  a  flood  of  sorrows  at  the  thought. 
They  may  be  justly  too  full  to  allow  us  to  speak  much 
upon  it ;  but,  O  !  they  can  never  be  too  full  of  shame, 
confusion,  and  tender  relentings  for  the  crime.  Me- 
thinks  the  thought  must  break  the  hardest  heart  among 
us. 

Let  me  now  add  a  consideration,  that  gives  an  aston- 
ishing emphasis  to  all  that  has  been  said.  All  this  pro- 
fusion of  mercy,  personal  and  relative,  temporal  and 
spiritual,  is  bestowed  upon  creatures  that  deserve  not 
the  least  mercy  ;  creatures  that  deserve  to  be  stripped 
naked  of  every  mercy  ;  nay,  that  deserve  to  be  made  mis- 
erable in  time  and  eternity ;  creatures  that  deserve  not  to 
breathe  this  vital  air,  to  tread  the  ground,  or  drink  the 
stream  that  runs  waste  through  the  wilderness,  much 
less  to  enjoy  all  the  blessings  which  the  infinite  merit 
of  Jesus  could  purchase,  or  the  infinite  goodness  of  God 
can  bestow ;  creatures  that  are  so  far  from  deserving  to 
be  delivered  from  the  calamities  of  life,  that  they  de- 
serve to  have  them  all  heightened  and  multiplied,  till  they 
convey  them  to  the  more  intolerable  punishments  of  hell ; 
creatures  that  are  so  far  from  making  adequate  returns, 
that  they  are  perpetually  offending  their  God  to  his  face ; 
and  every  day  receiving  blessings  from  him,  and  every 


478  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

day  sinning  against  him.  O  !  astonishing  !  most  astonish- 
ing !  This  wonder  is  pointed  out  by  Jesus  Christ  himself, 
who  best  knows  what  is  truly  marvellous.  "  The  Most 
High,"  says  he,  "is  kind  to  the  unthankful  and  to  the  evil." 
Luke  vi.  o5.  "  Your  heavenly  Father  maketh  his  sun  to 
rise  on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the 
just  and  on  the  unjust."     Matt.  v.  45. 

It  need  afford  you  no  surprise,  if  my  subject  so  over- 
whelms me,  as  to  disable  me  from  making  a  formal  ap- 
plication of  it.  I  leave  you  to  your  own  thoughts  upon 
it.  And  I  am  apt  to  think  they  will  constrain  you  to  cry 
out  in  a  consternation  with  me,  "  O  !  the  amazing,  horrid, 
base,  unprecedented  ingratitude  of  man  !  and  O  !  the  amaz- 
ing, free,  rich,  overflowing,  infinite,  unprecedented  goodness 
of  God  !  Let  these  two  miracles  be  the  wonder  of  the 
whole  univese  !" 

One  prayer,  and  I  have  done.  May  your  divine  Bene- 
factor, among  his  other  blessings,  bestow  upon  us  that  of  a 
thankful  heart,  and  enable  us  to  give  sincere,  fervent,  and 
perpetual  praise  to  his  name,  through  Jesus  Christ,  his  un- 
speakable gift !     Amen. 


SEEMON    XXVI. 


THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST,    AND     THEIR     CONSEQUENT     JOYS 
AND    BLESSINGS. 

Isaiah  liii.  10,  IL — When  thou  shalt  mciTce  his  soul  an  of- 
fering  for  sin,  he  shall  see  his  seed,  he  shall  prolong  his 
days,  and  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  his 
hand.  He  shall  see  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  he 
satisfied* 

This  chapter  contains  a  most  lively  and  moving  ac- 
count of  very  tragical  sufferings  ;  and,  if  we  have  but  a 
small  share  of  humanity,  we  cannot  hear  it  without  be- 

*  The  sermon  is  dated  Hanover,  (a  county  in  Virginia,)  July  11,  1756; 
and  is  evidently  a  Sacramental  Discourse. 


AND    THEIK    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  479 

ing  affected,  even  though  we  did  not  know  the  per- 
son concerned.  Here  is  one  so  n)angled  and  disfig- 
ured, that  he  has  "  no  form  or  comeliness;  one  despised 
and  rejected  of  men,  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted 
M'iih  grief;  one  wounded,  bruised,  0])prepscd,  afllicted ; 
one  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter ;  one  cut  off  out 
of  the  land  of  the  living."  And  who  is  he  1  V/erc  ho 
jui  enemy,  or  a  malefactor,  we  could  not  but  pity  him. 
But  this  was  not  his  character  ;  '"  for  ho  had  done  no 
violence,  neither  was  there  guile  found  in  his  mouth." 
And  he  was  so  far  from  being  our  enemy,  that  "  he  hath 
borne  our  griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows  ;  he  was 
wounded  for  our  transgressions ;  he  was  bruised  for  our 
iniquities,"  not  for  his  own.  Were  he  a  child  or  a  friend 
that  had  suffered  such  things,  it  would  raise  all  our 
mournful  and  sympathizing  passions  to  hear  the  history. 
But  what  if  this  should  be  the  man  that  is  God's  fellow^ 
the  Redeemer,  to  whom  we  are  bound  by  the  most  en- 
dearing obligations  !  a  person  of  inlinite  dignity  and 
perfect  innocence,  our  best  friend,  and  only  Savior  ! 
What  if  it  should  be  he  %  Would  not  this  move  your 
hearts,  and  raise  all  your  tender  passions  ]  Or  shall  he 
die  in  such  agonies  unpitied,  unlamented,  unbeloved, 
when  even  a  dying  criminal  excites  our  compassion  ? 
What  do  you  think  would  be  the  issue,  if  I  should  make 
an  experiment  of  this  to-day '?  If  1  should  make  a  trial, 
what  weight  will  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  have  upon  your 
hearts?  Do  you  think  the  representation  of  his  suffer- 
ings and  love  would  have  any  effect  upon  you '?  That 
they  may  have  this  effect,  is  my  design  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  this  subject ;  for  that  it  is  Jesus  who  is  the  hero 
of  this  deep  tragedy,  or  the  subject  of  these  sufferings, 
we  may  learn  from  the  frecjuent  application  of  passages 
quoted  from  this  chapter  to  him  in  the  New  Testament. 
This  chapter  has  been  a  successful  part  of  the  scriptures, 
and  there  are  some  now  in  heaven  who  were  brought 
thither  by  it.  This  is  the  chapter  the  Ethiopian  eunuch 
was  reading,  when  he  asked  Philip,  "  Of  whom  speaketh 
the  prophet  this  %  of  himself,  or  some  other  man  ]  and 
Philip  opened  his  mouth,  and  began  at  the  same  scrip- 
ture, and  preached  unto  him  Jesus :  and  he  believed 
with  all  his  heart  and  was  baptized ;  and  went  on  his 
way  homeward  (and   heavenward)  rejoicing."     Acts  viii. 


480  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

32,  35.  This  was  the  chapter  that  opened  to  the  peni- 
tent Earl  of  Rochester  the  way  of  sah-ation  through  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  which  alone  relieved  his  mind  from 
the  horrors  of  guilt,  and  constrained  him  to  hope  that  even 
such  a  sinner  as  he  might  find  mercy.  O  !  that  it  may 
have  the  same  effect  upon  you  my  brethren,  to-day,  that 
with  the  eunuch  you  may  return  home  rejoicing  ! 

The  design  and  method  I  now  have  in  view,  is  only  to 
illustrate  and  improve  the  several  parts  of  my  text,  es- 
pecially those  that  represent  how  pleasing  and  satisfactory 
the  conversion  and  salvation  of  sinners,  by  the  death  of 
Christ,  is  to  him. 

1.  "  When*  thou  shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering  for 
sin."f  An  offering  for  sin  is  when  the  punishment  of 
sin  is  transferred  from  the  original  offender  to  another, 
and  that  other  person  suffers  in  his  stead.  Thus  the 
Lord  Jesus  was  made  a  sin-offering  for  us.  The  punish- 
ment of  our  sin  was  transferred  to  him,  and  he  bore  it  in 
his  own  body  on  the  tree.  He  became  our  substitute, 
and  took  our  place  in  law,  and  therefore  the  penalty  of 
the  law  due  to  us  was  executed  upon  him.  It  is  in  this, 
my  brethren,  that  we  have  any  hope  of  salvation  ;  blood 
for  blood,  life  for  life,  soul  for  soul :  the  blood,  the 
life,  the  soul  of  the  Son  of  God,  for  the  blood,  and  life, 
and  soul  of  the  obnoxious  criminal.  Here,  sirs,  your  grate- 
ful wonder  may  begin  to  rise  upon  our  first  entrance  on  the 
subject ;  and  you  will  find  the  wonders  will  increase  as  we 
go  along. 

You  see  Jesus  presented  an  offering  for  sin  ;  and  what 
was  it  he  offered  ?  "  Silver  and  gold  he  had  none,"  the 
blood  of  bulls  and  of  goats,  and  the  ashes  of  heifers, 
would  not  suffice;  and  these  too  he  had  not.  But  he 
had  blood  in  his  veins,  and  that  shall  all  go  ;  that  he  will 
offer  up  to  save  our  guilty  blood.  He  had  a  soul,  and 
that  was  made  an  offering  for  sin.  His  soul  an  offering 
for  sin !  his  pure,  spotless  soul !  his  soul  that  was 
of  more  value   than   the   whole   universe   beside  !     You 

*  The  particle  here  rendered  wJieti  is  more  generally  rendered  if ;  and 
then  the  sentence  will  read  thus  :  "  If  thou  shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering 
for  sin ;"  the  consequence  will  be,  that  "  he  shall  see  his  seed,"  (Sec. 

t  Or  "when  thou  shalt  make  his  soul  sin."  It  is  a  common  scripture- 
phrase,  whereby  a  sin-offering  is  called  sin."  And  it  is  sometimes  retained 
in  our  translation,  particularly  in  1  Cor.  v.  21.  "He  hath  made  him  to  be 
sin  ;"  that  is,  a  siu-offering  for  us,  &c. 


AND    TUliiil    CON«li(iLENT    BLEbSlNCJe!. 


481 


may  liiid  those  that  will  give  ii  greiit  many  things  fur  the 
deliverance  of  a  friend,  but  who  would  give  his  soul  !  his 
soul  for  his  enemies! — this  is  the  peculiar  commendation 
of  the  love  of  Jesus. 

His  soul  here  may  signify  his  whole  human  nature  ; 
in  which  sense  it  is  often  taken  in  the  sacred  writings. 
And  then  the  meaning  is,  that  both  his  soul  and  body, 
or  his  whole  human  nature,  bore  the  punishment  due  to 
us.  Or  his  soul  may  be  here  understood  properly  for  his 
rational  and  immortal  part,  in  opposition  to  his  body  ; 
and  then  the  meaning  is,  that  he  suffered  in  soul  as  well  as 
in  body.  His  soul  suffered  by  the  foresight  of  his  suffering ; 
by  the  temptations  of  the  devil ;  by  an  affecting  view  of 
the  sins  of  men  ;  and  especially  by  the  absence  of  his  heav- 
enly Father.  Hence,  when  his  body  was  untouched,  in 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  he  cries  out,  "  my  soul  is 
exceedingly  sorrowful,  even  unto  death ;"  and  elsewhere, 
"  now  is  my  soul  troubled."  In  short,  as  one  expresses 
it,  the  sufferings  of  his  soul  were  the  soul  of  his  suffer- 
ings. The  sense  of  bodily  pain  may  be  swallowed  up 
in  the  pleasing  sensations  of  divine  love.  So  some  have 
found  by  happy  experience,  who  have  suffered  for  right- 
eousness' sake.  But  Jesus  denied  himself  that  happi- 
ness which  he  has  given  to  many  of  his  servants.  11  is 
soul  was  sorrowful,  exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto 
death ;  and  all  this  for  such  sinners  as  we.  And  shall 
this  have  no  weight  among  the  creatures  for  whom  he 
endured  all  this  ?  Make  an  experiment  upon  your  hard 
hearts  with  this  thought,  and  try  if  they  can  resist  its 
energy, — "  Thou  shalt  make  his  soul  an  offering  for 
sin."  Thou  shalt  make ;  that  is,  thou,  the  great  God 
and  Father  of  all.  This  sacrifice  is  provided  by  thy 
wisdom  and  grace,  and  appointed  by  thy  authority,  who 
hast  a  right  to  settle  the  terms  of  forgiveness ;  and 
therefore  we  may  be  sure  this  sacrifice  is  acceptable ; 
this  atonement  is  sufficient.  This  method  of  salvation 
is  thy  contrivance  and  establishment,  and  therefore  valid 
and  firm.  Here,  my  brethren,  is  a  sure  foundation ; 
here,  and  nowhere  else.  Can  you  produce  a  divine 
warrant  for  depending  on  your  own  righteousness, 
or  anything  else?  No;  but  this  offering  for  sin  is  of 
divme  appointment,  and  therefore  you  may  safely  ven- 
ture your  eternal  all  upon  it.  '*  Come,  ye  afflicted. 
41 


482  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

tossed  with    tempest,   and  not  comforted  ;"  come,    build 
upon  this  rock,  and  you  shall  never  fall. 

Or  the  words  may  be  rendered,  "  When  his  soul  shall 
make  an  offering  for  sin."*  And  in  this  sense  it  is  sig- 
nified that  this  was  Christ's  own  voluntary  act.  He  con- 
sented to  the  arduous  undertaking  :  he  consented  to  be 
our  substitute,  and  offered  himself  a  sacrifice  for  us.  He 
was  under  no  previous  constraint;  subject  to  no  com- 
pulsion. This  he  tells  us  himself:  "  No  man  taketh  my 
life  from  me ;  but  I  lay  it  down  of  myself:"  John  x.  18. 
Thus  it  was  his  own  free  choice ;  and  this  consideration 
prodigiously  enhances  his  love.  A  forced  favor  is  but  a 
small  favor.  But  Jesus  willingly  laid  down  his  life  when 
he  had  power  to  keep  it.  He  voluntarily  ascended  the 
cross,  when  he  might  have  still  continued  on  the  throne. 
He  was  absolute  Lord  and  Proprietor  of  himself,  under 
no  obligations  to  any,  till  he  assumed  them  by  his  own 
consent.  When  martyrs  have  died  in  the  cause  of  right- 
eousness, they  did  but  v/hat  was  their  previous  dut}^ ; 
iheir  lives  were  not  theirs,  but  his  who  gave  them,  his 
to  whom  they  devoted  them ;  and  they  had  no  right  to 
them  when  he  demanded  them ;  nor  w^ere  they  able  to 
protect  them  against  the  power  of  their  enemies.  But 
J  esus  resigned  what  was  his  own  absolute  property  ;  and 
he  resigned  his  life  when  it  was  in  his  power  to  have  re- 
tained it.  All  the  united  forces  of  earth  and  hell  could 
not  have  touched  his  life,  had  not  he  consented.  As 
with  one  word  he  spoke  them  into  being,  so  with  a  word 
he  could  have  blasted  all  their  powers,  or  remanded  them 
into  nothing,  as  he  found  them.  Of  this  he  gave  a  spe- 
cimen, when,  by  saying  /  am  Jie^  (John  xviii.  6,)  I  am 
the  despised  Nazarene  whom  ye  are  seeking,  he  struck 
an  armed  company  down  to  the  earth ;  and  he  could  as 
easily  have  chained  them  there,  and  never  suffered  them 
to  rise  more.  Here  was  love  indeed,  that  he  should  offer 
himself  a  voluntary,  self-devoted  sacrilice !  and  if  he 
made  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin  when  he  was  not  obliged 
10  it,  will  not  you  voluntarily  love  and  serve  him,  when 
you  are  obliged  to  it ;   obliged  by  all  the  ties  of  author- 

*  Tlie  reason  of  this  ambiguity  is,  that  the  original  word  is  the  second 
person  masculiue,  and  the  third  person  leniinine.  It' taken  in  the  masca- 
Jiue  gender,  it  must  be  apphed  tu  God  the  Father ;  if  in  tlie  feminine,  to 
the  soul  of  Christ,  which  is  also  feminine. 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  483 

ity  and  gratitude,  of  duty  and  interest  l  Let  me  bring 
home  this  overture  to  your  hearts:  will  you,  of  your 
own  choice,  devote  yourselves  to  his  service,  who  con- 
sented to  devote  himself  a  victim  for  your  sins  ?  Are 
you  willing  to  live  to  him,  when  you  are  bound  to  do  it  ; 
to  him  who  died  for  you,  when  he  was  not  bound  to  do 
it  ?  You"  have  the  easier  task  of  the  two  :  to  live  a  life 
of  holiness,  and  to  die  upon  a  cross,  are  very  different 
things  ;  and  will  you  not  do  thus  much  for  him  ?  Could 
there  be  such  a  thing  as  a  work  of  supererogation,  or  an 
overplus  of  obedience,  methinks  this  overplus  of  love 
might  constrain  you  to  it ;  and  will  you  not  so  much  as 
honestly  attempt  that  which  you  are  bound  to  by  the 
most  strong  and  endearing  obligations?  If  you  reject 
this  proposal,  make  no  pretensions  to  gratitude,  a  regard 
to  the  most  sacred  and  rightful  authority,  or  any  noble 
disposition.  You  are  sunk  into  the  most  sordid  and  aggra- 
vated degree  of  wickedness,  and  every  generous  and  pious 
passion  is  extinct  within  you. 

Now,  what  shall  be  the  consequence,  what  the  reward 
of  all  these  sufferings  of  Christ  ?  Shall  he  endure  all  this 
in  vain  ?     Shall  he  receive  no  compensation  ?     Yes  ;  for, 

2.  My  text  tells  you  he  shall  prolong  his  days.  The 
self^devoted  victim  shall  have  a  glorious  resurrection. 
His  days  were  cut  oW  in  the  midst ;  but  he  rose  again, 
and  shall  enjoy  an  endless  length  of  happy  and  glorious 
days.  Tliat  he  was  once  dead  he  was  not  ashamed  to 
own,  when  he  appeared  in  a  form  of  so  much  majesty  to 
John.  "  Fear  not,"  says  he,  "  I  am  the  first  and  the  last : 
I  am  he  that  liveth,  and  was  dead  ;  and  behold  1  am  alive 
for  evermore  :"  Rev.  i.  17,  18.  The  man  that  hung  on 
Calvary,  and  lay  dead  in  the  tomb  of  Joseph  of  Arima- 
thea,  where  is  he  now  1  O  !  he  has  burst  the  bonds  of 
death,  triumphed  over  the  grave,  and  enjoys  an  immor- 
tal life.  And  this  immortal  life  he  spends  in  a  station  of 
the  most  exalted  dignity  and  perfect  happiness  forever. 
See !  Jesus,  '•  who  was  made  a  little  lower  than  the  an- 
gels, for  the  suffering  of  death,  crowned  with  glory  and 
honor  :"  Heb.  ii.  9.  Because  "  he  humbled  himself,  and 
became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross,  therefore  God  hatfi  highly  exalted  him,  and  given 
him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name  ;  that  at  the  name 
of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  and  every  tongue  con- 


484  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

fess:"  Phil.  ii.  8—11.  It  was  for  this  end  that  "  Christ 
both  died  and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living  :"  Rom.  xiv.  9.  By 
his  death  he  acquired  universal  government,  and  has  the 
keys  of  the  vast  invisible  world,  and  of  death  that  leads 
into  it:  Rev.  i.  18.  This  was  a  great  part  of  that  "joy 
which  was  set  before  him,  for  the  sake  of  which  he  en- 
dured the  cross,  despising  the  shame  :"  Heb.  xii.  2.* 

And  is  the  poor,  despised,  insulted,  crucified  Jesus  thus 
exalted?  Then  I  proclaim,  like  the  herald  before  Jo- 
seph, when  advanced  to  be  prime  minister  to  Pharaoh, 
Bow  the  knee  !  submit  to  him,  ye  sons  of  men.  He  has 
bought  you  with  his  blood,  and  has  a  right  to  your  sub- 
jection; therefore  yield  yourselves  to  him.  This  day 
become  his  willing  subjects,  and  swear  allegiance  to  him 
at  his  table.  To  him  let  every  knee  bow  in  this  assem- 
bly, and  every  tongue  confess  that  Jesus  is  Lord.  And 
do  you  now  feel  your  hearts  begin  to  yield  ?  Are  your 
souls  in  the  posture  of  humble  homage  1  Are  you  ready 
to  say,  "  Lord  Jesus,  reign  over  this  soul  of  mine :  see, 
I  resign  it  as  the  willing  captive  of  thy  cross  ?"  Or  will 
you  stand  it  out  against  himl  Shall  your  hearts  and 
practices,  as  it  were,  send  a  message  after  him,  now 
when  he  is  advanced  to  his  heavenly  throne,  "We 
will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  over  us"  1  Then  I  pro- 
claim you  rebels,  wilful,  inexcusable  rebels  against  the 
supreme,  the  most  rightful,  and  the  most  gracious  gov- 
ernment of  Christ ;  and  if  you  continue  such,  you  must 
perish  forever  by  the  sword  of  his  justice,  without  a 
possibility  of  escaping.  You  cannot  rebel  against  the 
crucified  Jesus  with  impunity,  for  he  is  not  now  dying 
on  the  cross,  or  lying  senseless  in  the  grave.  He  lives ! 
he  lives  to  avenge  the  affront.  He  lives  forever,  to  punish 
you  forever.  He  shall  prolong  his  days  to  prolong  your 
torment.  Therefore,  you  have  no  alternative,  but  to  sub- 
mit to  him  or  perish. 

*  This  sentence,  "  He  shall  prolong  his  days,''  is  otherwise  translated 
by  some,  and  applied,  not  to  Christ,  but  to  his  seed:  "He  shall  see  his 
seed,  who  shall  prolong  their  days;"  or,  "  He  shall  see  a  lon|:-lived  seed," 
or,  "  a  long  succession  of  posterity."  So  the  S event y.— This  translation 
gives  a  stricter  connection  and  uniformity  tfi  the  words  with  the  preceding 
and  following  sentences.  And  in  this  sense  it  is  undoubtedly  true :  for  Je^ 
eus  has  always  had,  and  ever  will  have,  some  spiritual  children  on  our 
guilty  globe ;  and  neither  earth  nor  hell  shall  ever  be  able  to  extinguish  the 
eacred  race. 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  485 

I  may  also  propose  the  immortality  and  exaltation  of 
Christ  to  you,  as  an  encouragement  to  desponding  souls. 
So  the  apostle  uses  it,  "  He  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most all  that  come  unto  God  by  him,  seeing  he  ever 
liveth."  Heb.  vii.  25.  In  trusting  your  souls  to  him, 
you  do  not  commit  them  to  a  dead  Savior.  It  is  true,  he 
was  once  dead,  above  1700  years  ago  ;  but  now  he  is 
alive ;  and  behold  he  liveth  for  evermore.  He  lives  to 
communicate  his  Spirit  for  your  sanctification  ;  he  lives 
to  look  after  you  in  your  pilgrimage  through  this  wilder- 
ness; he  lives  to  send  down  supplies  to  you  according 
to  your  exigencies ;  he  lives  to  make  perpetual  inter- 
cession for  you  (which  is  the  thing  the  apostle  had  in 
view),  to  plead  your  cause,  to  urge  your  claims  found- 
ed on  his  blood,  and  to  solicit  blessings  for  you.  He 
lives  forever  to  make  you  happy  forever.  And  will  you 
not  venture  to  trust  your  souls  in  his  hand  1  you  may 
safely  do  it  without  fear.  He  has  power  and  authority 
to  protect  you,  being  the  Supreme  Being,  Lord  of  all, 
and  having  all  things  subjected  to  him  ;  and  consequent- 
ly, nothing  can  hurt  you  if  he  undertakes  to  be  your 
guard.  Ye  trembling  weaklings,  would  it  not  be  better 
for  you  to  fly  to  him  for  refuge  than  to  stand  on  your  own 
footing,  afraid  of  falling  every  hour  ?  He  can,  he  will  sup- 
port you,  if  you  lean  upon  him. 

And  does  not  he  appear  to  you  as  an  object  of  love  in 
his  exalted  state  ?  He  is  all-glorious,  and  deserves  your 
love ;  and  he  is  all  benevolence  and  mercy,  and  therefore 
self-interest,  one  would  think,  would  induce  you  to  love 
him  ;  for  to  what  end  is  he  exalted  1  Isaiah  will  tell  you, 
"He  is  exalted,  that  he  may  have  mercy  upon  you." 
Isa.  XXX.  18.  He  has  placed  himself  upon  his  throne,  as 
upon  an  eminence,  may  I  so  speak,  that  he  may  more 
advantageously  scatter  blessings  among  the  needy  crowd 
beneath  him,  that  look  up  to  him  with  eager  wishful  eyes, 
like  the  lame  beggar  on  Peter  and  John,  expecting  to  re- 
ceive sometliing  from  him.  And  shall  not  such  grace  and 
bounty,  in  one  so  highly  advanced  above  you,  excite  your 
love  1  Certainly  it  must,  unless  that  the  principle  of  grat- 
itude be  lost  in  your  breasts. 

Finally,  May  I  not  propose  the  exaltation  and  immor- 
tality of  the  Lord  Jesus,  as  an  object  of  congratulation 
to  you  that  are  his  friends'?  Friends  naturally  rejoice 
41* 


486  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

in  the  honors  conferred  upon  one  another,  and  mutually 
congratulate  each  other's  success.  And  will  not  you 
that  love  Jesus  rejoice  with  him,  that  he  is  not  now 
where  he  once  was ;  not  hanging  on  a  painful  and  igno- 
minious cross,  but  seated  on  a  glorious  throne ;  not  in- 
sulted by  the  rabble,  but  adored  by  all  the  heavenly 
armies ;  not  pierced  with  a  crown  of  thorns,  but  adorn- 
ed with  a  crown  of  unfading  glory  ;  not  oppressed  under 
loads  of  sufferinojs,  but  exulting  in  the  fulness  of  ever- 
lasting joys  1  Must  you  not  rejoice  that  his  sufferings 
for  you  had  so  happy  an  issue  with  regard  to  himselif? 
O  !  can  you  be  sunk  in  sorrow  while  your  head  is  ex- 
alted to  so  much  glory  and  happiness,  and  that  as  a  re- 
ward for  the  shame  and  pain  he  endured  for  you  ?  Me- 
thinks  a  generous  sympathy  should  affect  all  his  mem- 
bers ;  and  if  you  have  no  reason  to  rejoice  on  your  own 
account,  yet  rejoice  for  your  Head  ;  share  in  the  joys  of 
your  Lord. 

Thus  you  see  Jesus  Christ  has  obtained  the  richest  re- 
ward in  his  own  person.  But  is  this  all "?  Shall  his  suf- 
ferings have  no  happy  consequences  with  regard  to 
others ;  in  which  he  may  rejoice  as  well  as  for  himself? 
Yes,  for, 

3.  My  text  tells  you,  that  he  shall  see  his  seed.  He  shall 
see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied  ;  and 
the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  prosper  in  his  hand.  What 
an  emphatical  variety  of  expressions  are  here  to  signify 
the  pleasure  which  Christ  takes  in  observing  the  happy 
fruits  of  his  death,  in  the  salvation  of  many  of  the  ruined 
sons  of  men  ! 

He  shall  see  his  seed.  By  his  seed  are  meant  the  chil- 
dren of  his  grace,  his  followers,  the  sincere  professors 
of  his  religion.  The  disciples  or  followers  of  a  noted 
person,  for  example,  a  prophet  or  philosopher,  are 
seldom  denominated  his  seed  or  children.  These  words 
arc  parallel  to  those  spoken  by  himself,  in  the  near  pros- 
pect of  his  sufferings ;  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground,  and  die,  it 
abideth  alone  :  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth  much  fruit." 
John  xii.  24.  So  unless  Jesus  had  fallen  to  the  ground 
and  died,  he  would  have  abode  alone;  he  would  have 
possessed  his  native  heaven  in  solitude,  as  to  any  of  the 
sons  of  Adam  ;  but  now  by  his  dying,  and  lying  entomb- 


AND    TIIEIIl    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  487 

ed  in  the  ground,  he  has  produced  a  large  increase. 
One  dying  Christ  has  produced  thousands,  millions  of 
Christians.  His  blood  was  prolific;  it  was  indeed  "the 
seed  of  the  church."*  And,  blessed  be  God,  its  pro- 
lific virtue  is  not  yet  failed.  His  spiritual  seed  have 
been  growing  up  from  age  to  age,  and  O  the  delight- 
ful thought !  they  have  sprung  up  in  this  barren  soil, 
though,  alas !  they  too  often  appear  thin  and  withering. 
These  tender  plants  of  righteousness  have  sprung  up  in 
some  of  your  families;  and  I  trust,  a  goodly  number  of 
them  are  here  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord  to-day.  If  you 
search  after  the  root,  you  will  find  it  rises  from  the 
blood  of  Jesus ;  and  it  is  his  blood  that  gives  it  nourish- 
ment. Jesus  came  into  our  world,  and  shed  the  blood 
of  his  heart  on  the  ground,  that  it  might  produce  a  croj) 
of  souls  for  the  harvest  of  eternal  glory ;  and  without 
this,  w^e  could  no  more  expect  it  than  wheat  without 
seed  or  moisture.  A  part  of  this  seed  is  now  ripened 
and  gathered  into  the  granary  of  heaven,  like  a  shock  of 
corn  come  in  his  season.  Another  part  is  still  in  this  un- 
friendly- climate  suffering  the  extremities  of  winter, 
covered  w^ith  snow,  nipt  with  frost,  languishing  in 
drought,  and  trodden  under  foot.  Such  are  you,  the 
plants  of  righteousness,  that  now  hear  me.  But  you 
are  ripening  apace,  and  your  harvest  is  just  at  hand. 
Therefore,  bear  up  under  the  severities  of  winter;  for 
that  coldness  of  heart,  that  drought  for  want  of  divine 
influences,  those  storms  of  temptation,  and  those  oppress- 
ions that  now  tread  you  down,  will  ere  long  be  over. 
O !  when  shall  we  see  this  heavenly  seed  spring  up  in 
this  place,  in  a  more  extensive  and  promising  degree? 
When  you  travel  through  the  country,  in  this  temperate 
season,  with  which  God  has  blessed  our  country  that  was 
parched  and  languishing  last  year,  how  agreeable  is  tlie 
survey  of  wide,  extensive  fields,  promising  plenteous 
crops  of  various  kinds !  And  O !  shall  we  not  have  a 
fruitful  season  of  spiritual  seed  among .  us  !  INIay  I  ac- 
commodate the  words  of  Jesus  to  this  assembly,  '•  Lift 
up  your  eyes  and  look  on  the  fields ;  for  they 'arc  white 
already  to  harvest!"     John  iv.  35.     O  !  is  the  happy  sea- 

*  It  was  a  proverb  in  llie  primitive  times,  that  "  the  blood  of  the  mar- 
tyrs was  the  seed  of  the  church;"  but  never  could  it  be  applied  with  so 
much  propriety  as  to  the  blood  of  Christ. 


488  THE    SUFFERINGS  OF    CHRIST, 

son  come,  when  we  shall  see  a  large  crop  of  converts  in 
this  place  ?  Then  welcome  thou  long-expected  season ! 
But  alas  !  is  not  this  a  flattering  hope  ?  Is  it  not,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  barren  season  with  us  ?  Is  not  the  harvest 
past  and  the  summer  over,  while  so  many  are  not  saved  ! 
O !  the  melancholy  thought !  If  it  has  been  so  with  us 
for  some  time,  O  let  us  endeavor  to  make  this  a  fruitful 
day! 

We  may  perhaps  more  naturally  understand  this  meta- 
phor as  taken,  not  from  the  seed  of  vegetables,  but  that 
of  man;  and  so  it  signifies  a  posterity,  which  is  often 
called  seed.  This  only  gives  us  another  view  of  the 
same  case.  Spiritual  children  are  rising  up  to  Christ 
from  age  to  age,  from  country  to  country;  and  blessed 
be  his  name,  the  succession  is  not  yet  at  an  end,  but 
will  run  on  as  long  as  the  sun  endureth.  Spiritual  chil- 
dren are  daily  begotten  by  his  word  in  one  part  of  the 
world  or  other ;  and  even  of  this  place  it  may  be  said, 
"  that  this  and  that  man  was  born  here."  And  are  there 
none  among  you  now  that  feel  the  pangs  of  the  new 
birth,  and  about  to  be  added  to  the  number  of  his  chil- 
dren ?  O  that  many  may  be  born  to  him  this  day !  O 
that  this  day  we  may  feel  the  prolific  virtue  of  that  blood 
which  was  shed  above  1700  years  ago  ! 

He  shall  see  his  seed.  It  is  a  comfort  to  a  dying  man 
to  see  a  numerous  offspring  to  keep  up  his  name,  and  in- 
herit his  estate.  This  comfort  Jesus  had  in  all  the  ca- 
lamities of  his  life,  and  in  all  the  agonies  of  death ;  and 
this  animated  him  to  endure  all  with  patience.  He  saw 
some  of  his  spiritual  children  weeping  around  him  while 
hanging  on  the  cross.  He  looked  forward  to  the  end  of 
time,  and  saw  a  numerous  offspring  rising  up  from  age 
to  age  to  call  him  blessed,  to  bear  up  his  name  in  the 
world,  and  to  share  in  his  heavenly  inheritance.  And 
O !  may  we  not  indulge  the  pleasing  hope,  that  from 
his  cross  he  cast  a  look  towards  Hanover  in  the  ends  of 
the  earth;  and  that  in  his  last  agonies  he  was  revived 
with  this  reflection ;  "  I  see  I  shall  not  die  in  vain :  I  see 
my  seed  dispersed  over  the  world,  and  reaching  the 
wilds  of  America.  I  foresee  that  a  number  of  them, 
towards  the  end  of  the  world,  will  meet  in  Hanover, 
gratefully  to  commemorate  the  sufterings  I  am  now 
enduring,  and   devote   themselves   to   me  forever."      O ! 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  489 

my  brethren,  will  you  not  aflbrd  the  blessed  Jesus  this 
pleasure  1  It  is  but  little,  very  little,  for  all  the  tortures 
he  bore  for  you :  your  sins  have  given  him  many  a 
wound,  many  a  pang,  and  will  you  not  now  grant  him 
this  satisfaction?  But  the  cross  is  not  the  only  place 
from  whence  he  takes  a  view  of  his  spiritual  seed.  He  is 
now  exalted  to  his  throne  in  the  highest  heavens;  and 
from  thence  he  takes  a  wide  survey  of  the  universe.  He 
looks  down  upon  our  world:  he  beholds  kings  in  their 
grandeur,  victorious  generals  with  all  their  power,  no- 
bles and  great  men  in  all  their  pomp ;  but  these  are  not 
the  objects  that  best  please  his  eyes.  "  He  sees  his 
seed ;"  he  sees  one  here,  and  another  there,  bought  with 
his  blood,  and  born  of  his  Spirit ;  and  this  is  the  most 
delightful  sight  our  world  can  aflbrd  him.  Some  of  them 
may  be  oppressed  with  poverty,  covered  with  rags,  or 
ghastly  with  famine ;  they  may  make  no  great  figure  in 
mortal  eyes ;  but  he  loves  to  look  at  them,  he  esteems 
them  as  his  children,  and  the  fruits  of  his  dying  pangs. 
And  let  me  tell  you  his  eyes  are  upon  this  assembly  to- 
day ;  and  if  there  be  one  of  his  spiritual  seed  among  us, 
he  can  distinguish  them  in  the  crowd.  He  sees  you 
drinking  in  his  words  with  eager  ears;  he  sees  you  at 
his  table  commemorating  his  love ;  he  sees  your  hearts 
breaking  with  penitential  sorrows,  and  melting  at  his 
cross.  And  O !  should  we  not  all  be  solicitous  that  we 
be  of  that  happy  number  on  whom  his  eyes  are  thus  gra- 
ciously fixed  1 

But  these  are  not  the  only  children  whom  he  delights 
to  view;  they  are  not  all  in  such  an  abject,  imperfect 
state.  No,  he  sees  a  glorious  company  of  them  around 
his  throne  in  heaven,  arrived  to  maturity,  enjoying  their 
inheritance,  and  r.  -  ombling  their  divine  Parent.  How 
does  his  benevulciit  heart  rejoice  to  look  over  the  im- 
mense plains  of  heaven,  and  see  them  all  peopled  with 
his  seed !  When  he  takes  a  view  of  this  numerous  off- 
spring, sprung  from  his  blood,  and  when  he  looks  down 
to  our  world,  and  we  hope  to  this  place  among  others, 
and  sees  so  many  infants  in  grace,  gradually  advancing 
to  their  adult  age;  when  he  sees  some,  perhaps  every 
hour  since  he  died  upon  Calvary,  entering  the  gates  of 
heaven,  having  finished  their  course  of  education  upon 
earth ;  I  say,  when  this  prospect  appears  to  him  on  every 


490  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

hand,  how  does  he  rejoice!  Now  the  prophecy  in 
my  text  is  fulfilled.  He  shall  see  of  the  travail  of  his  soul, 
and  shall  be  satisfied.  If  3'ou  put  the  sentiments  of  his 
benevolent  heart  into  language,  methinks  it  is  to  this 
purpose,  "  It  is  enough ;  since  my  death  has  been  so 
fruitful  of  such  a  glorious  posterity,  I  am  satisfied.  If 
sinners  will  submit  to  me,  that  I  may  save  them,  if  they 
will  but  suffer  me  to  make  them  happy,  I  desire  no  other 
reward  for  all  my  agonies  for  them.  If  this  end  be  but 
answered,  I  do  not  at  all  repent  of  my  hanging  on  the 
tree  for  them."  O  sirs,  must  not  your  hearts  melt 
away  within  you,  to  hear  such  language  as  this?  See 
the  strength  of  the  love  of  Jesus !  if  you  be  but  saved, 
he  does  not  grudge  his  blood  and  life  for  you.  Your 
salvation  would  make  amends  for  all.  He  asks  no  other 
reward  from  you  than  that  you  will  become  his  spiritual 
seed,  and  behave  as  children  towards  him.  This  he 
would  count  the  greatest  joy ;  a  joy  more  than  equiva- 
lent to  all  the  pains  he  endured  for  you.  And,  O !  my 
brethren,  will  you  not  afford  him  this  joy  to-day  %  This 
is  a  point  I  have  much  at  heart,  and  therefore  1  must 
urge  it  upon  you ;  nay,  I  can  take  no  denial  in  it.  Jesus 
has  done  and  suffered  a  great  a  deal  for  you ;  and  has 
gratitude  never  constrained  you  to  inquire  how  you  can 
oblige  him  ?  or  what  you  shall  do  for  him  in  return  ]  If 
this  be  your  inquiry,  you  have  an  answer  immediately ; 
devote  yourselves  to  his  service,  love  and  obey  him  as 
his  dutiful  children,  that  he  may  save  you.  If  you  would 
oblige  him,  if  you  would  give  him  full  satisfaction  for 
all  the  sorrows  you  have  caused  him,  do  this ;  do  this  or 
nothing;  for  nothing  else  can  please  him.  Suppose  he 
should  this  day  appear  to  you  in  that  form,  in  which  he 
once  was  seen  by  mortals,  sweating  great  drops  of 
blood,  accused,  insulted,  bruised,  scourged,  racked  upon 
the  cross;  and  suppose  he  should  turn  to  you  with  a 
countenance  full  of  love  and  pity,  and  drenched  with 
blood  and  tears,  and  address  you  in  such  moving  lan- 
guage as  this?  "See!  sinners,  see  what  I  suffer  for 
you :  see  at  what  a  dear  rate  I  purchase  your  life ;  see 
how  I  love  you.  And  now  I  have  only  this  to  ask  of  you 
in  return,  that  you  would  forsake  those  murderous  sins 
which  thus  torment  me ;  that  you  would  love  and  serve 
jne;   and  accept  of  that  salvation  which  I  am  now  pur- 


AND    THEIR   CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  491 

chasing  for  you  with  the  blood  of  my  heart ;  this  I  ask 
with  all  the  importunity  of  my  last  breath,  of  bleeding 
wounds,  and  expiring  groans.  Grant  me  but  this,  and  I 
am  satisfied  ;  I  shall  think  all  my  sufferings  well  bestow- 
ed." I  say,  suppose  he  should  address  you  thus  in  per- 
son, what  answer  would  he  receive  from  this  assembly  ? 
O !  would  you  not  all  cry  out  with  one  voice,  "  Lord 
Jesus,  thou  hast  overcome  us  with  thy  love:  here  we 
consent  to  thy  request.  Prescribe  anything,  and  we 
will  obey.  Nothing  can  be  a  sufficient  compensation 
for  such  dying  love."  Well,  my  brethren,  though  Jesus 
be  not  here  in  person,  yet  he  makes  the  same  request 
to  you  by  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  he  makes  the 
same  request  by  the  significant  representation  of  his  suf- 
ferings, just  about  to  be  given  by  sacramental  signs; 
and  therefore  make  the  same  answer  now,  which  you 
would  to  himself  in  person.  He  has  had  much  grief 
from  Hanover  ere  now :  many  sins  committed  here  lay 
heavy  upon  him,  and  bruised  and  wounded  him ;  and  O  ! 
will  you  not  afford  him  joy  this  day?  Will  you  not 
give  him  the  satisfaction  he  desires  1  His  eyes  are  now 
running  through  this  assembly,  and  shall  he  not  see  of 
the  travail  of  his  soul  1  Shall  he  not  see  the  happy 
fruits  of  his  death?  There  is  joy  in  heaven  at  the  con- 
version of  one  sinner,  and  Jesus  has  a  principal  share  in 
the  joy.  And  will  you  endeavor  to  rob  him  of  it  ?  If 
you  reject  his  proposal,  the  language  of  your  conduct  is, 
"  He  shall  have  no  cause  of  joy,  as  far  as  I  can  hinder 
it ;  he  shall,  however,  have  none  from  me ;  all  his  suf- 
ferings shall  be  in  vain,  as  far  as  I  can  render  them  so." 
And  are  you  not  shocked  at  such  blasphemy  and  base  in- 
gratitude? The  happiness  of  his  exalted  state  consists, 
in  a  great  degree,  in  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  designs 
of  his  death  accomplished  in  the  conversion  and  salva- 
tion of  sinners;  and  therefore,  by  denying  him  this, 
you  attempt  to  degrade  him,  to  rob  him  of  his  happiness, 
and  to  make  him  once  more,  a  man  of  sorrows.  And 
can  you  venture  upon  such  impiety  and  ingratitude?  I 
tell  you,  sirs,  it  will  not  do  to  profess  his  name,  to  com- 
pliment him  with  the  formalities  of  religion,  and  to  be 
Christians  in  pretence,  while  you  do  not  depart  from 
iniquity,  and  while  your  hearts  are  not  fired  with  his 
love.      He   takes   no   pleasure   in   seeing    such    spurious 


492  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

seed,  that  have  no  resemblance  to  their  pretended 
Father;  but  he  will  disown  them  at  last,  as  he  did  the 
Jews,  and  tell  them,  Ye  are  of  your  Father,  the  devil^ 
whose  works  ye  do.  John  viii.  44.  The  thing  in  which 
he  would  rejoice,  and  which  I  am  inculcating  upon  you, 
is,  that  as  penitent,  helpless  sinners,  you  would  cast 
yourselves  entirely  upon  the  merit  of  his  atonement,  de- 
vote yourselves  to  his  service,  and  submit  to  him  as  your 
Lord;  that  is,  that  you  would  become  true,  genuine, 
sincere  Christians.  This,  and  nothing  short  of  this, 
would  afford  him  pleasure ;  and  can  you  refuse  it  to  him ; 
especially  when  it  will  afford  the  greatest  pleasure  to 
yourselves?  Permit  me,  my  dear  brethren,  to  insist 
upon  it,  that  you  rejoice  the  heart  of  the  blessed  Jesus 
to-day.  I  request  you  in  his  name  and  stead;  and  to 
which  of  you  shall  I  make  the  request  wdth  success  1 
Will  you,  the  free-born  descendants  of  Britons,  gratify 
him  in  this?  Or,  if  you  refuse.  Behold  I  turn  to  the 
Gentiles.  Some  of  you,  poor  negroes,  have,  I  hope, 
rejoiced  the  heart  of  Christ,  by  submitting  to  him  as 
your  Savior ;  and  are  there  no  more  among  you  that 
will  do  him  this  kindness  ?  O  !  can  any  of  you  bear  the 
thought  of  refusing  ?  He  bore  the  black  crimes  of  many 
a  poor  negro;  and  now  he  is  looking  upon  you,  to  see 
what  return  you  will  make  him.  Come,  then,  ye  that 
are  at  once  slaves  to  men,  and  slaves  to  sin,  let  the  Son 
make  you  free,  and  you  shall  he  free  indeed;  he  will  de- 
liver you  from  sin  and  Satan,  the  worst  of  masters,  and 
bring  you  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  his  children. 

Here  I  would,  for  awhile,  drop  my  address  to  the 
noble  principle  of  gratitude,  and  endeavor  to  work  upon 
that  of  sell-love,  which,  though  less  noble,  is  more 
strong  in  degenerate  creatures.  In  affording  Christ 
this  pleasure,  you  will  afford  the  greatest  pleasure  to 
yourselves;  for  it  is  your  happiness,  your  salvation, 
that  he  rejoices  in,  and  therefore  in  grieving  him,  you 
ruin  yourselves.  Accept  of  him  as  your  Savior  and 
Lord,  and  you  shall  be  happy  forever ;  but  if  you  reject 
him,  you  are  forever  undone :  he  will  not  save  you,  and 
where  will  you  look  for  a  Savior?  To  wiiich  of  the 
saints,  to  which  of  the  angels,  will  you  turn  ?  Alas ! 
they  all  will  cast  you  off  if  Christ  renounces  you.'  If 
you  will  not  suffer  him  to  rejoice  over  you  in  doing  you 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  493 

good,  he  will  rejoice  over  you  in  doing  you  evil;  he 
will  glorify  himself  in  your  destruction ;  he  will  please 
himself  in  the  execution  of  justice  upon  you.  The 
flames  of  hell  will  burn  dreadfully  bright  to  reflect  the 
splendors  of  his  perfections.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
you  afford  him  joy  at  your  conversion  this  day,  he  will 
reward  you  forever;  he  will  reward  you  with  all  the 
unspeakable  joys  of  heaven. 

Here  then  is  a  twofold  cord  to  draw  you  to  Jesus 
Christ,  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  love  of  yourselves; 
and  one  would  think  such  a  cord  could  not  easily  be 
broken.  Can  any  of  you  resist  the  united  force  of  grat- 
itude and  self-interest "?  Are  you  so  unnatural  as  to  sin 
against  Christ,  and  against  your  own  life ;  to  ruin  your- 
selves rather  than  to  oblige  him  ?  Who  would  think  that, 
the  once  noble  nature  of  man  should  ever  be  capable  of 
such  a  degree  of  degeneracy  1  And  O  !  who  would 
have  thought  that  the  Son  of  God  would  lay  down  his 
life,  or  even  entertain  one  benevolent  thought  for  such 
base  ungrateful  creatures,  that  care  so  little  for  him,  or 
even  for  their  o^vn  true  interest  ?  I  must  bring  this  mat- 
ter to  a  short  issue;  and  it  is  this:  you  must  either 
afford  Christ  this  generous  pleasure,  by  receiving  and 
submitting  to  him  this  day,  or  you  will  return  home  un- 
der the  additional  guilt  of  rejecting  him,  and  doing  all 
you  could  to  reduce  him  into  misery  again ;  and  if  you 
continue  such,  which,  alas !  is  not  improbable,  you  must 
feel  his  eternal  resentments,  and  perish  forever  under 
the  weight  of  his  righteous  vengeance.  Let  us  now  pro- 
ceed to  another  part  of  the  text. 

The  pleasure  of  the  Lord  shall  pros2ier  in  his  hand.  It 
is  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  that  sinners  should  be  saved 
through  the  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ ;  I  say,  through 
the  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ :  for  he  is  determined  they 
shall  not  be  saved  in  any  other  way;  he  is  determined 
that  those  who  refuse  to  be  saved  in  this  way,  shall  not 
be  saved  at  all ;  because  their  salvation  in  any  other  way 
would  not  be  consistent  with  the  glory  of  his  perfections, 
the  honor  of  his  government,  and  his  character  as  the 
supreme  Magistrate  of  the  universe ;  and  his  honor  and 
glory  are  of  more  importance  than  the  happiness  of  all 
created  worlds ;  and  therefore  their  happiness  cannot  be 
obtained  in  any  way  inconsistent  with  it.     But  through 


494  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

the  mediation  of  Christ  sinners  may  be  saved,  and  in  the 
meantime  the  honor  of  the  divine  perfections  and  gov- 
ernment secured,  and  even  illustrated.  He  has  made 
atonement  for  sin,  and  answered  the  demands  of  the 
divine  law  and  justice  ;  so  that  God  can  now  be  just,  and 
yet  justify  him  that  believeth  in  Jesus.  Hence  God  is  in 
Christ ;  observe,  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  ivorld  to  him- 
self. 2  Cor.  V.  19.  His  heart  is  set  on  it;  and  the  suc- 
cess of  this  scheme  affords  him  the  greatest  pleasure. 
It  is  not  only  your  interest,  but  j^our  duty  to  be  saved. 
It  is  as  much  your  duty  to  enter  into  heaven,  as  to  pray, 
or  to  perform  any  other  part  of  religion.  And  your  de- 
struction will  not  only  be  your  righteous  punishment, 
but  your  sin ;  the  most  criminal  self-murder.  God  has 
been  pleased  to  interpose  his  authority,  to  give  greater 
force  to  the  principle  of  self-love.  Your  interest  has 
this  additional  recommendation,  that  it  is  your  duty ; 
and  you  sin  against  God  in  ruining  yourselves.  Here 
again  my  subject  leads  me  to  address  myself  to  the 
united  principles  of  gratitude  and  selt-love.  Will  you 
not  afford  the  Lord  that  made  you  this  benevolent  pleas- 
ure '?  Will  you  not  gratify  him  in  this,  when  it  is  your 
happiness  he  seeks "?  Has  neither  the  pleasure  of  God 
nor  your  own  immortal  interest  any  weight  with  you '? 
Is  sin  dearer  to  you  than  both  ?  Alas  !  if  you  are  not  to 
be  wrought  upon  by  considerations  drawn  from  the  love 
of  God,  or  love  to  yourselves,  from  gratitude  or  self- 
interest,  from  what  topic  shall  I  reason  with  you  1  If 
this  be  the  case,  you  are  no  longer  to  be  dealt  with  as 
reasonable  creatures,  but  as  natural  brute  beasts,  made 
to  be  taken  and  destroyed. 

This  w^ork  of  saving  sinners,  God  has  intrusted  to  Je- 
sus Christ ;  and  he  has  chosen  a  very  proper  person  for 
so  grand  and  difficult  an  undertaking.  The  'pleasure  of 
the  Lord  shall  prosjjer  in  his  hand,  or  under  his  manage- 
ment. He  knows  how  to  carry  on  the  scheme  to  the 
best  advantage.  The  work  has  been  going  on  from 
Adam  to  this  day,  in  spite  of  all  opposition ;  and  it  is  not 
now  at  a  stand.  O  that  it  may  prosper  among  you,  my 
dear  people !  O  that  the  sacred  Trinity,  and  all'  the  an- 
gels on  high,  may  look  down  with  pleasure  this  day  on 
this  guilty  spot,  rejoicing  to  see  the  grand  scheme  of 
salvation   succcssfuily  going  on  !     My  brethren  will  you 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  495 

not  fall  in  with  the  design  1  A  design  so  fovorable  to 
yourselves.  Will  you  not  all  concur  to  promote  it,  and 
carry  it  into  execution  upon  a  child,  a  friend,  a  neigh- 
bor, and  especially  upon  yourselves  ?  Or  will  you  set 
yourselves  against  the  Lord,  and  against  his  Anointed, 
by  refusing  to  fall  in  with  this  scheme  ?  Will  you  join 
in  the  conspiracy  against  it  with  the  malevolent  powers 
of  hell,  who  oppose  it  with  all  their  might,  because  it 
tends  to  your  salvation?  You  readily  concur  in  any 
scheme  for  your  temporal  advantage,  and  why  not  in 
this  1  Is  the  happiness  of  heaven  the  only  kind  of  hap- 
piness that  you  are  careless  about?  Is  the  salvation  of 
your  immortal  soul  the  only  deliverance  for  which  you 
have  no  desire?  Alas!  are  you  become  so  stupidly 
wicked  ? 

This  subject  affords  strong  consolation  to  such  of  you 
as  have  complied  with  the  method  of  salvation  through 
Christ,  since  the  salvation  of  sinners  in  this  way  is  the 
pleasure  of  the  Lord ;  and  since  it  is  intrusted  to  the 
faithful  and  skilful  hands  of  Ciirlst,  under  whose  man- 
agement it  will  prosper,  you  may  Ibe  sure  his  pleasure 
will  be  accomplished  with  respect  to  you,  and  that  the 
divine  scheme  shall  be  carried  into  complete  execution, 
in  spite  of  all  opposition.  Therefore  rejoice  in  your  se- 
curity, and  bless  his  name  to  whom  you  owe  it. 

I  shall  conclude  with  a  few  advices  adapted  to  this 
solemn  sacramental  occasion. 

The  table  of  the  Lord  is  just  about  to  be  spread 
among  us.  This  is  another  instance  of  the  grace  and 
benevolence  of  Christ ;  for  to  remember  him,  who  is  the 
design  of  this  ordinance,  is  not  only  your  duty,  but  your 
privilege  and  happiness.  The  remembrance  of  him  has 
virtue  in  it  to  refresh  your  souls,  to  heal  your  wounded 
consciences,  and  to  revive  your  languishing  graces. 
Hence  it  is  that  this  ordinance  is  not  only  a  memorial  of 
Christ,  but  a  feast  for  your  refreshment  and  support ; 
and  consequently  his  making  it  a  standing  ordinance  in 
his  church  is  a  standing  evidence  of  his  good-will  to  his 
people  to  the  end  of  the  world.  It  is  true  it  is  an  insti- 
tution little  regarded,  even  in  the  Christian  world :  to 
many  the  table  of  the  Lord  is  contemptible,  for  they 
stand  by  and  gaze  at  it  as  unconcerned  or  curious  spec- 
tators.    But  this  does  not   depreciate  it,  nor  is   it  a  rea- 


496  THE    SUFFERINGS    OF    CHRIST, 

son  why  you  should  desert  it.  Come,  ye  children, 
crowd  round  your  Father's  table  to-day.  Let  Jesus  see 
his  seed  feasting  together  in  commemoration  of  him, 
and  in  mutual  love  with  one  another.  Let  him  now  see 
of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  the  children  with  whom  he  trav- 
ailed as  in  birth ;  let  him  now  see  a  goodly  company 
of  them  around  his  table,  that  he  may  be  satisfied.  Let 
me  remind  you  that  you  have  caused  him  many  a  heavy 
hour,  and  much  pain  and  sorrow;  therefore  let  him  in 
return  have  pleasure  and  satisfaction  from  you  this  day. 
O  !  rejoice  the  heart  you  have  often  broken,  and  let  there 
be  joy  in  heaven  over  you.  Let  the  angels  that  are  min- 
istering to  the  saints,  and  that  are  no  doubt  hovering 
unseen  over  this  assembly,  viewing  those  humble  memo- 
rials of  that  Savior  whom  they  behold  without  a  veil  in 
his  native  heaven,  let  them  carry  up  glad  tidings  to  their 
Lord  this  evening,  and  tune  their  harps  above  to  higher 
strains  of  joy  and  praise.  And  O  !  that  the  lost  sheep  would 
this  day  return,  that  their  kind  Shepherd  may  rejoice 
over  them:  he  came  from  heaven  in  search  of  you,  and 
will  you  keep  out  of  his  way  and  fear  falling  into  his 
hands  1  Let  wandering  prodigals  return,  that  there  may 
be  joy  in  your  Father's  house,  whose  arms  are  stretched 
out  to  embrace  you,  and  who  is  looking  after  you  with 
eager  eyes.  O  let  the  pleasure  of  the  Lord  prosper 
among  us  this  day,  and  it  will  be  a  day  gratefully  to  be 
remembered  to  all  eternity. 

This  ordinance  is  also  a  seal  of  the  covenant  of  grace  ; 
therefore  come  to  it  this  day  to  renew  your  contract 
with  your  God  and  Savior ;  to  take  him  for  your  God, 
and  to  give  up  yourselves  to  him  as  his  people,  in  an 
everlasting  covenant  never  to  be  forgotten.  Make  a  sure 
covenant ;  call  heaven  and  earth,  God,  angels  and  men, 
to  be  witness  to  it,  and  seal  it  with  the  memorials  of 
your  dying  Redeemer.  You  had  need  to  make  it  firm, 
for  much  depends  upon  it ;  and  you  have  much  to  go 
through  to  perform  the  duties  of  the  Christian  life ;  to 
conflict  with  powerful  temptations :  to  die ;  to  stand  at 
the  supreme  tribunal ;  these  are  the  things  you  are  to  go 
through ;  and  you  cannot  pass  through  them  with  honor 
or  safety,  unless  you  make  sure  of  an  interest  in  God,  and 
give  up  your  all  into  his  hands. 

This  institution  is  also   intended  to  cultivate  the  com- 


AND    THEIR    CONSEQUENT    BLESSINGS.  497 

miinion  of  the  saints  ;  and  therefore,  as  children,  you  are 
to  sit  down  at  the  table  of  your  common  Father,  with 
hearts  full  of  ardent  love  to  mankind,  and  especially  to 
the  household  of  faith.  Let  no  angry  or  malicious  pas- 
sion pollute  this  sacred  feast ;  but  be  all  charity  and  be- 
nevolence, like  that  Redeemer  whose  death  you  celebrate. 
Finally,  You  are  now  to  renew  your  vows  and  obliga- 
tions to  be  the  Lord's,  and  to  walk  in  his  ways  all  the 
days  of  your  life.  See  that  you  enter  into  them  with  an  en- 
tire dependence  upon  his  strength ;  and  O !  remember 
them  afterwards,  to  carry  them  into  execution.  One 
would  think  that  all  traitors  would  be  forever  deter- 
red from  sitting  down  at  the  Lord's  table,  by  the  shock- 
ing example  of  Judas,  the  first  hypocrite  that  profaned  it. 
And  O  !  one  would  think  that  vows,  made  in  so  solemn  a 
posture,  and  with  the  emblems  of  Christ  s  body  and  blood 
in  your  hands,  would  not  soon  be  forgotten  as  trifles.  It 
is,  methinks,  an  exploit  of  wickedness  to  be  capable  of 
this ;  and  none  of  you,  I  hope,  are  hardy  enough  to  ven- 
ture upon  it. 


END    OF    VOLUME    I. 


